


Deep Blue

by Nelzi91



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fantasy, Lemon, Little Mermaid Elements, Vegebul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:22:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 105,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22850122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nelzi91/pseuds/Nelzi91
Summary: Bulma and Vegeta MermaidAU & 3 year gap get together. Bulma is a mermaid who refuses to silently accept the future that would have been forced on her so she swims away from home. The uninhabited island she claims as her new home just happens to be the jaded Saiyan Prince's training territory, for when the Gravity Trainer is 'out of order'...
Relationships: Bulma Briefs/Vegeta
Comments: 27
Kudos: 85





	1. Oh my Scales!

**Author's Note:**

> So I've had this story up on FF.net for quite some time now and I felt it was time to migrate.  
> Also, I like the fact that I don't have to censor myself so much. It's quite... liberating.  
> I won't be posting it all at once because I'd like to make some changes here and there, it shouldn't take too long.
> 
> So this is essentially a Bulma/Vegeta get together AU with some elements of 'The Little Mermaid'  
> Set in those 3 years, but Bulma is a mermaid...

Bulma stared at her reflection in horror. Her cerulean eyes shifting disbelievingly from the dusty rose pebble of soft skin exposed on her otherwise dark-scaled chest, to the single ultramarine scale she now held between her webbed fingers. The scale had, but a moment ago, been firmly secured to the crown of her right breast; and now –her life might as well be over.

The Mermaid had woken up with the most intense of chest itches and after furiously clawing at the scales found there, this had been the result: one scale –a single scale had been loosened and lost; and her befuddled mind took its sweet time digesting the monumental implications. From the corner of her eye she caught the reflected gaze of her twin sister, Marron. Her turquoise eyes were also fixed on the scale in Bulma’s hand and were wide and with awe. 

As a telepathic race, the Merfolk are also often sensitive to their fellow mer’s emotions, and since the two Mermaids are as close as any pair of twins could be, Marron could easily sense and was woken by Bulma’s distress. Like Bulma, Marron had also immediately seen what was causing all the consternation, yet a quick peek into her sister’s mind revealed joy and reverence and not the animosity that Bulma felt towards what she considered, a very dire situation. Sensing her sister’s attention, Marron shifted her eyes to meet those of her twin.

‘Oh, Bulma!’ she squealed, ‘Do you know what this means?’ Bulma grimaced. Of course she knew what it meant. When a mermaid of their kind lost their chest scales, she was immediately classified as a 'fertile'. Such a rarity and a blessing, fertile mermaids were, that they must be "cherished" and "protected" at all cost, and at a monumental price: fertile mermaids were practically prisoners in gilded cages. And fertiles, who like Bulma, were of royal decent were seen as mere chattel, livestock to be bargained for and bartered to ensure strong offspring, viable to contend for the throne. And if the first suitor didn't take, well there was always more candidates waiting in line for their attempt at "breaking the curse", gag! Bulma thought with disgust, and glared bitterly at her exposed nipple. She was to be a Breeder then.

‘No way!’ Bulma projected her denial, almost viciously. Marron’s cheery disposition vanished and was replaced by utter confusion. She stared at Bulma with a troubled expression and Bulma soon felt the telepathic tendrils of her twin, probing at her shielded thoughts. Marron, was by no means a strong telepath and after a minute of futile poking she gave up with an exasperated sigh.

‘I don’t understand, Bulma! You’ve been endowed with the ability to reproduce. The great Neptune himself has lovingly blessed you!’ she projected passionately .

Bulma, still glaring hatefully at the exposed skin on the apex of her right breast, laughed bitterly. She should have known that Marron would see it this way, what else can one expect from a priestess. 

‘It is more a curse than a blessing, Sister. I am a warrior, not a Breeder. I would die before I let myself be gang-raped and have my uterus abused at the whim of a bunch of greedy old farts!’

Marron’s eyes widened, shocked at her sister’s callous words. She looked around fearfully for a moment, verifying the no-one was in hearing distance so as to pick up her sister’s seditious thoughts before turning an angry gaze on Bulma. ‘You dare speak so rudely of the Queen’s Council? That could be seen as treason!’ 

Another bitter laugh, ‘What can they do to me, Marron?’ she challenged haughtily. ‘I’m the highest raking official in the Queen’s army – ’

‘They are strong too, Bulma.’

‘They are old and feeble.’ Bulma continued as if the interruption had not taken place. ‘I am the seventh daughter of Queen’

‘Eighth’

‘Keep dreaming Marron. I was born first.’

‘Says you’ 

‘I am a General of her military forces,’ Bulma went on, ignoring her sister, ‘Captain to her Imperial Guard. Our people are awed and in fear of my ferocious reputation and cunning…’ she continued gloating, but was again interrupted by her Marron’s mutterings: ‘Yes, yes: Bulma the Bull shark, the powerful and courageous, and so on and so forth.’ Marron drawled , rolling her eyes as she had heard the very speech a thousand times over. Bulma frowned. There was momentary silence as the only sentiments passing between the two telepathic creatures were emotions of stubborn resentment and teasing amusement. 

‘My point is,’Bulma continued loudly and Marron winced at the force of the interjection, ‘The Council would not dare to put me in the ranks of the Queen’s breeders-in-waiting. I’m too much of a military and political asset.’

Even as Bulma spoke, she realised she was likely only fooling herself. Marron knew it too and her twin sighed in sympathy.

‘Bulma,’ she started again, cautiously. ‘You know if it is discovered that you are fertile, you will not be left as you are, _especially_ because of your high rank in the army. Don’t you see? This is exactly why the great Sea God had blessed you with this gift! It’s our tradition; only the strongest of the queen’s breeding daughter’s will one day ascend to the throne and you’re the strongest in the whole of the domain. The strongest one...’ Marron trailed off softly. Suddenly her eyes lit with an epiphany – a truly astonishing feat since it was well known that Marron definitely was not the brightest anglerfish in the deep sea.

‘The Prophecy!’ The priestess shrieked excitedly, 

**“When stars decide to touch the sea. Blue is called to blend with black.** **_The strongest one_ ** **must chosen be. The barren trident to bring back… A brown-tailed one with lilac hair. The golden crown he is to wear.”**

By the time Marron was done reciting their people's prophecy Prophecy her eyes were wide as saucers as she stared at her twin. Bulma gulped, dread churning in the pit of her stomach...This did not bode well her her.

Great. Just Great! Bulma thought sarcastically. Now she thinks I’m some kind of foreseen Messiah. What the Kelp have they been brainwashing her in that damned temple? If there was ever any hope that Bulma could have swayed her twin into assisting her in her escape, the priestess' little speech and the fanatical look in her glowing eyes had just dashed it. Nevertheless, Bulma tried again: ‘Marron, there hasn’t been a male heir in five generations. What makes you think that _I_ would change that?’

‘I know you will. Why else would a great warrior like yourself develop fertility so far into your adult life? Fertility is usually developed on the onset of sexual maturity. It all makes sense now... you're to be our new Queen. You will birth the fortold heir, our long awaited King, and bring an end to the curse on our bloodline!’ Marron continued with unshakable faith. ‘You’re the strongest one. I know you are. Oh! This is so exciting. I must inform the Council.’ Bulma shook her head, frustration at her own twin’s obvious indoctrination.

'I can't let you do that, Marron!' Bulma words halted her sister in her wake. Marron froze, her eyebrows scrunched, betraying her confusion. ‘If I become Queen, like our mother, I will be forced to give birth every cycle for the rest of my life! I will never see a battlefield or war chambers or my comrades in arms again. How could you possibly think I would be happy about this?’

‘I don’t understand Bulma. Our city has waited 300 years for the you to appear. It... it will not be as you think. If you give birth to a son, you'll no longer have to bare more children as our mother does.. or her mother before her.'

‘Who the kelp says that that stupid prophecy is about me anyway?’Bulma shouted, frustration reaching boiling point. There was no reasoning with her sister.

‘But..you’re the strongest.. The Prophecy says-’

'And who, pray-tell will be the father of this illustrious male heir that I'm supposedly going to give birth to?' Bulma interrupted scornfully.

'I'm sure the Council would chose only the most worthiest of the noble bachelors.' Marron answered with conviction. Bulma laughed humorlessly. 

'You mean the candidate who is worth the most, surely.'

'What do you mean?'

'Oh come now Marron. You can't really be _that_ dumb, can you? The Council doesn't give two kelps about worthiness of character. All they care for is who can do the biggest favors and how much they gold they can line the royal coffers with. Do you know what I think? I think the Prophecy is nothing but a myth; created to cover up the fact that the Queen’s – _our_ bloodline has been corrupted generations ago, only producing meek female offspring for the Council to be able to manipulate like puppets.'

Marron gasped, and shook her head in denial. ‘Sacrilege! Surely you don’t believe that’ Marron contested in an anguished whisper. 

‘Marron!’ Bulma snapped, her wrath tangible. Marron cringed. ‘Don’t be stupid. Not one of this city’s Queens or their breeding daughters have been able to produce a healthy male heir for hundreds of years now! Even our rival Kingdoms have noticed and exploited this weakness. And what did your precious Council do when we were were facing defeat and sacking three cycles ago? 'Pray for the heir! Pray for the one who was promised. Only he can save our city!' What utter lunacy, it was _my_ military tactics, my blood spilled on that battlefield, that saved this city from the brink of defeat, not my womb!'

'Nobody doubts that you are the savior of our city. You have proven your strength to all, but you are fertile now. They will not allow you to fight again, and even more, the city is safe. The war is over and the treaty has been finalized. Is it not time for you to pursue a greater purpose? After all, you said it: the fact that we don't have a king is seen as a weakness in the other merrealms. You can change that, Bulma. You can make us strong again. The Great Neptune has so decreed it with your late fertility.' Marron ended solemnly. Bulma wanted to tear her own hair out.

'Tell me sister, do I look meek to you? Do I look like the sort of mermaid who will lay down and take the seed so "graciously" bestowed upon me? I belong on a war council not in a bed chamber popping out guppies! I won't be wasting my life or my mind being the figurehead of this city.’ 

‘What are you going to do then, Bulma? Are you going to hide this gift and deprive your own people of a better future?’ Marron’s snarled.

‘Damn it, Marron!’ Bulma snapped angrily, ‘Don't you understand? This is not some gift from the gods! This is nothing but bad luck and I’m not sticking around long enough for the Council to get their slimy hand on me. Being fertile is the worst thing that could have happened to me.' Marron was shaking her head in denial and finally let out a sorrowful wail. ‘I’ve done a lot for this monarchy,' she continued, 'but this... this is to much to ask of even me. I need to escape Marron. Will you help me?'

Marron glared angrily at her sister, which is probably to be expected, Bulma thought. ‘I can’t believe you!’ she replied, shoving her sister away from her. ‘You betray us so carelessly and still you expect me to help you?’ Marron was completely livid. It was worth a shot. Bulma thought to herself with a sad sigh as she watched her sister storm from the room, the strong backlash caused by Marron’s hastily exiting tail nearly spun Bulma in her place. She considered swimming after her, but decided the risk was too great. Marron’s vision would clearly see her as the next Queen, which meant she could not be trusted to stay silent. With a defeated glance at her right breast, now even more bare because of her overzealous tirade, Bulma decided that if their were ever a time to escape, it would be immediately.


	2. Time to Get Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we become part of Bulma's world as she hastily hatches a plan to escape the city...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically a world-building chapter.  
> Merfolk use different units of measurement. I'll explain it here beforehand:  
> A cycle is equivalent to a year to merfolk.  
> A Tail is roughly 6 feet long, or 1.8 meters for those of you who measure in metric (like me)

After becoming of age, Bulma had chosen her career path, as all citizens of the city, even princesses, do. She decided to joined the army. Not the conventional choice, since most of her sisters, barring the breeders, chose a career that would keep them close to the palace – like singing or and craft-making. Bulma’s choice landed her in the soldier’s barracks. An environment completely opposite to what she had grown up in. No one kissing your tail, everyone treating you as an equal – if not inferior. It was a tough adjustment, but also the most fun she had ever had. The friendship she made early in her military career were genuine, based on the shared sufferings of being greenies together in the training camps, pushed around and teased by higher ranking soldiers. Some of those friendship even lasting up until today.

She had always been in awe, watching her guards spar and train in the palace training facilities. She loved the annual warrior games that the royal family always attended, in which many of the soldiers competed to show off their power, skill, battle strategy and cunning. She had, after becoming a soldier herself, competed in said games every cycle, working her way to the top ranks until she earned the honorific title ‘Bull Shark’ when she won her first games a four cycles ago. The name had been attributed to her aggression, unpredictability and refusal to quit even when staring failure in the face. She had yet to be bested.

She would miss her home, Bulma thought sadly, but she simply would not let herself be turned into the Council’s puppet. Her Breeding sisters can say what they want to her about living in the lap of leisure, being catered for and waited on, but Bulma knew it was all an illusion. At the Council's whim, any one of her breeding sisters could be married off at the drop of a hat. Only the current crown princess was the exception, her fate being much worse than that of the lesser breeding princesses. The future queen was to remain untouched until after the coronation. Then it was feeding frenzy all around for the eligible bachelors. The Queen is expected to birth the male heir and will keep trying, with different suitors until such a time that she cannot bare any more children. It was downright barbaric. Of course, her sister currently in line to inherit thinks that sacrificing her body in such a manner is "a great honor". She's as senseless and brainwashed as her own twin is. Bulma could never accept such a fate. She was a free spirit, always have been, always will be, and right at that moment, there were new horizons waiting for her. Despite what her twin may think, life was not all about what occurred inside their city. So, after Marron left, Bulma started packing, a wily plan already taking shape in her mind.

She considered seeking refuge in one of their allied cities, but decided against it. She wouldn’t be able to conceal her identity and they would come for her. The Council would not rest until her tail was on their throne. Going into enemy territory was out of the question and that left one option that had Bulma feeling giddy and petrified in the same instant: the surface.

Land.

It was taboo. Land and Sea realms were separated around the same time the royal bloodline was corrupted. Legend had it that the humans and merfolk were slaughtering each other. The queen had, supposedly angered the humans by having an affair with a human king and the human queen, scorned by her husband's infidelity but powerless to retaliate, waged war against the merrealms instead, claiming that her king was bewitched by an evil creature of the deep. There was much bloodshed, so the Gods intervened to create an impenetrable barrier between the realms.

Bulma’s world was completely isolated from the surface. The only exception being one specific area, an enormous air pocket located at the bottom of a deep cavern. It filters in the only sunlight that their world ever sees, beaming it down from cracks and fissures in the thick rock-dome overhead. A territory unclaimed by all, except a clan of priests. It was simply called The Reef, and was highly respected and revered by every one of the many subspecies of Mer-creatures living in the merrealms. It is said that in those shallow waters, marine life of all different types cohabited peacefully. It lay partly on an oceanic, partly on a continental plate and sported the most beautiful and liveliest of reefs. The Reefwas a hub that connected all sea creatures. It had various tunnels, big and small, that lead down to each Merclan’s deep-sea territory. There were many ways to reach it, but also many ways to get hopelessly lost and die while attempting to reach it. The map Bulma was currently plotting to steal was thus her only assurance of ever finding it. _I would also need Marron’s priestess garb_ , she added as an afterthought , already thinking of some twisted story she would spin the priests living there if they happened to catch her invading what they would probably see as sacred waters.

Bulma hesitated; she had heard many horror stories of what the land dwellers, the two-legged ones, did to their kind. Surely it was all just hearsay, based on myth and legend, she reasoned. She had yet to meet the merman crazy enough to venture anywhere near The Reef, let alone Land… well, except the priests who resided there. Who was to say that she wouldn’t be leaving one cage for another? ‘Was it worth the risk?’ she doubted.

Her hesitation lasted only a moment before her warrior-code kicked in, reprimanding her for her cowardice. ‘Bulma the Bull shark will not be hampered by the fear of _rumours_ and _myths_ !’ she chastised, ‘Besides, I have to survive the journey before attempting to survive the destination.’ This thought brought to mind the other major obstacle to a successful escape. The journey to the surface is rumored to be even more perilous than land itself. Besides the fact that one has to swim through an intricate underwater labyrinth of twists, turns and tight squeezes, which is all but impossible to navigate if one did not have a copy of the well guarded map kept in the queen’s treasury. The path to the surface is also said to be guarded by a serpent-like water dragon called the Imoogi, that is twice as long as the colossal squid and ten times more vicious than the most aggressive of Tiger Sharks. According to their legends, the Imoogi was created by the Ocean God, Neptune, and commissioned to let only ocean _animals_ pass through from the human world to the mer-world and back. Any human or mer-creature that was found in his domain was eaten. Apparently, this protects mer-realm from the human-realm. Most of the stories though, are of the type you tell to scare children into staying away and are not really based on facts. _All legends are based somewhat on fact._ A little voice in her mind seemed to whisper to her. Bulma ignored it. Dragon don't exist, she determined. It's just scaremongering techniques to keep the merfolk adhering to the taboo. 

As for actually reaching the surface…

It is a known fact that The Reef also had one massive tunnel, twice the circumference of a Blue Whale, that lead to the surface, to her freedom: The Serpent’s Pass. No mer-creature would dare venture there for fear of being eaten alive by the Imoogi. Bulma, though, is not your average Mermaid. To the mermaid-warrior-princess, her freedom was worth more than her life, and if a 100-tail Guardian was what she had to pass to gain it, she would by all means do just that; ‘ _it’s no fun if its not trying to kill you.’_ She had always told her young soldiers in their first (hardest) year of their military recruitment. It seemed that it was finally time for her to live that philosophy. 

Bulma wasted no time in preparation for her escape.She quickly donned her armor, which successfully concealed her now almost bare chest. As a ‘princess’, Bulma had many material possessions. As a warrior-mermaid, though she did not care for most of them, her the most important possession being her trident, which she received upon completion of her military training. A mer’s trident is the key to unlocking and channeling one’s life energy. No soldier went without theirs. With it she could fire blasts of devastating or invigorating energy that could either kill her enemies or re-energize her allies. Its trio of sharp blades also made it perfect for hunting and close combat. Being of such a high rank in the military, Bulma was also one of the few who could use her trident to manipulate the flow of water around her into raging torrents or violent cyclones. Her trident was like an extension of her own body, and of a much higher quality than a common soldier’s, upgraded to such an extent as she flew through the ranks, so as to make it more stable and more resilient than any other in the city, excepting than the Royal Trident, which no one but the (non existent) King may wield. Her trident lay next to her sleeping compartment, about a tail and a half in length and made of silver. She sheathed it neatly by twisting a ring just below its head and watched it slide into a compact quarter-tailed rod before clipping it to the holster on her side.

Bulma threw all the necessaries into a average sized sling bag: some vanity products that a Mermaid cannot do without, a stolen priestess robe and accessories, along with a small amount of food and money. She quickly braided her long teal tresses and pinned it into a tight bun, then grabbed a plain looking long hooded cloak and made off for the Queen’s treasury.

‘The Queen wishes for me to retrieve one of her treasures for my sister’s coming of age celebration tomorrow.’ She stated boldly, upon reaching the guarded doors. It was a risk, if Marron had already reached the council then the whole Royal Guard would have known by now and would have moved to apprehend her. Especially if her twin informed them of her escape plans. It was a calculated risk though, since she was almost certain she could have easily subdue the two soldiers before her and make quick work of grabbing the map. As for her excuse to enter the Royal Treasury in the first place, she was simply and very cleverly manipulating her circumstances to suit her end. It is common knowledge that her mother, the Queen, chose an item out of her treasury for each of her daughters’ coming of age gifts, her own had been a beautiful pearl and sapphire headdress with the biggest gem designed to dangle tastefully on her forehead. Bulma was dressed in her everyday Royal Guard ensemble, she had stashed her hooded cloak in one of the rooms on her way to the treasury, and her trident was sheathed and clipped into its holder. Her overall appearance should have warranted no suspicion. The two guards posted at the treasury door thus had no hesitation in allowing her access. 

Bulma quickly found what she was looking for: a large brown-cover book that lay closed on a podium in the middle of the room. This ancient book held the histories and myths of her people and carefully documented bloodline of her family.This was the book she was seeking, yet could not access. It stood heavily shielded by a transparent energy field, the energy is supplied by the queen herself as was their tradition for centuries. Luckily, each queen had The Book copied for the general use and instruction of each generation of royal offspring so that their heritage would not fade away.The copy, Bulma knew, would be in the secret (to all but royals) library in the far right corner of the room and after quick search in the miniature library she finally had what she was searching for. The mermaid took a quick glance around, making sure that no one was in her immediate vicinity before quickly tearing the map from its place. After a bit of curious skimming, she gathered the page about the legendary Imoogi too, rolling it together and stashing it in her bag.She bid a quick goodbye to the guards at the door upon exiting and swiftly swam on toward the next phase of her plan: the servant’s quarters.

As Captain of the Royal Guard, Bulma lived in the palace and when swimming through the palace halls, one was either on duty, where in Bulma’s case, she would be fully armed like as she was, or one would be on leisure time: No armor, no trident and wearing the finest of her precious-stoned accessories. Naturally, Bulma had grown up being spoiled rotten, as was expected. She was constantly showered with the most expensive and beautiful jewelry, accessories and other vanity products. She had even had her bellybutton, nose and ears pierced as was the custom among the Queen’s many daughters. As a royal, she had her fair share of accessories to wear during down-time, from headdresses and hair-accessories, necklaces, earrings, nose-rings, belly-rings, belly-chains, bracelets and rings,to finely woven cloaks and embroidered veils and scarves. Breeding mermaids, which made up 30% of the female population, would wear intricate breast-covering and decorations made up of shells and precious metals. Outside the palace, the common folk would usually accessorize with things handmade or made up of much less expensive materials, it is rare when one would see a Mermaid not wearing any accessories, common or noble. Bulma’s conscious decision to wear armor instead of jewelry assured less attention from the media if she was to leave the palace gates, and thus less speculation about her inevitable departure from the city.

After setting down her cloak and sling bag, Bulma concealed herself bedside the entrance of the servant’s quarters, lowering her life energy until her bioluminescent features emitted a less noticeable glow. Bulma’s race lived in waters hidden deep inside a labyrinth of underwater caves. Her world was completely devoid of sunlight,and the only immediate light to be found in the that dense darkness came from her their own bodies. The external sources of light that illuminated their surroundings were organic lanterns made up of captured light emitting deep-sea creatures. These creatures were easily attainable. They were bred or captured wild on a daily basis, depending on your income class in society. Bulma’s city was situated deeper than many marine animals would travel, mainly for the access of bioluminescent creatures that lit up her world, but also for the its naturally fortified location. The strategic benefit of living somewhere that prevented large-scale attacks from enemy clans, Bulma guessed, could also have played a vital role in the choosing her city’s location, since it is a benefit that Bulma had taken full advantage of when devising battle strategies. As Bulma hid next to the door of the servant’s quarters, she made sure to keep her ‘lumens’ lower than that of the nearest lantern, a skill no mer but the most accomplished of warriors could achieve.

Right then, a servant exited the room, before she could swim too far Bulma caught her arm. The girl started, dropping the tray she was carrying. It floated down to land noiselessly on the stoned palace floor. The mermaid swiveled and her eyes widened when she realized who had stopped her. Bulma could pick up the ill-concealed fear and wonder, along with many other mixed emotions the mermaid before her felt in that moment. Bulma quickly reassured the girl, since fear was fast overwhelming all her other emotions, the longer she held on to the girl’s arm. Understandable, since Bulma probably looked very intimidating in that moment in her complete suit of armor and trident.

‘What’s your name girl?’ she asked.

‘Orcana, my Lady.’ she replied submissively.

‘Well, Orcana, I need you to do me a favour.’ Once again her surprise was evident on her face.

‘Anything, my Lady.’Bulma rolled her eyes.

‘Stop with this my Lady nonsense, girl. From henceforth you shall refer to me by the title Princess Bull Shark.’ Bulma said sharply. The surprised girl immediately started apologizing profusely. Bulma watched in amusement for a while until she couldn’t help but letting out a good natured chuckle.

‘I’m just messing with you, Orcana. Call me Bulma.’ She said with a bright smile and the shocked mermaid froze, before Bulma felt her relax a bit and a tiny smile lit up her face. Good, Bulma thought, nervousness equals sloppiness and Bulma couldn’t afford any slip-ups.

‘Alright, Orcana. I need you to go to the store and get something for me.’ She addressed the servant. Orcana nodded. ‘Now this is very important,’ she continued ‘I want you to get a breast-piece for me.’ As Bulma made her request the girl frowned in confusion, as expected, looked at Bulma's concealed chest, then back at her face. Bulma sighed. Time to work her magic, she thought.

‘Don’t look at me like that girl, this is for a gift. If I told you for whom it's intended, well, I’d have to kill you. It's classified information.’ The girl nodded sternly, and Bulma discerned that the servant had a fine sense of duty, which would be perfect for what she would request next. Bulma smiled in a reassuring manner before adding, ‘I’m just joking, Orcana… though it _is_ supposed to be a surprise.’ Bulma made as if she was carefully contemplating something, then went on: ‘Oh, what the kelp. I might as well tell you, but you must promise not to inform anyone of the reason behind this commission.’ The servant's eyes shone with reverence, and she nodded enthusiastically. Bulma had her just where she wanted her, she obviously feels too honored to compromise on her promise. Going in for the kill: ‘One of my young sisters, Marina, has confided in me that she is shedding her chest scales. She is going to announce her fertility on her coming of age celebration tomorrow. I want to surprise her with a beautiful breast-cover… I would go myself, but being as renowned as I am, If I were to leave this palace dressed in anything but my armor, the media would be on my tail like sharks who have scented blood. Nothing I do would escape their notice and my surprise would deflate like a defeated blowfish. As you can see, I’m in quite a dilemma.’

‘You can count on me, my Lady...uh, Bulma.’ Orcana said confidently.

‘Good. Now, I’m entrusting you with this bag. It has sufficient funds within.’ she said, handing the servant her sling, ‘Also, wear this.’ She gave her the cloak to put on. I will meet you on the other side of the market, where I will retrieve my items. As the girl swam off, Bulma could but hope that the Council would be having a busy day and that her twin would have some trouble reaching them, but as her sister is a priestess and thus holds a respected position in court, she wouldn’t bet on it.


	3. Stranded on a Mud Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma swims into an old friend, and we get to see what our favorite surly Saiyan had been up to all this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Punctuation explained and formatting explained:  
> The single apostrophe denotes 'telepathic speech' while the quotation marks is regular "verbal speech"  
> Words marked in italic are inner thoughts/inner speech

Despite her worries, Bulma made it off palace grounds with relative ease, acquiring nothing but a few raised eyebrows as she left the main gate. It is well known that the Captain does not leave often, but, as Bulma expected she encountered no restrictions; which meant that the Council had yet to be informed of Bulma’s… condition. The beautiful teal-haired mermaid set off on her slightly detoured route to the shopping district. Detoured since she preferred the quieter back-alley ways instead on the busy mainstream roads where she would be stared at and gossiped about. Even if she weren’t famous and royal, she’d still be able to turn heads. She was a gorgeous specimen and she knew it. In Mer society, one’s physical appeal was often attributed to three things: fertility, body-shape and the luminous scale-pattern unique to every Mer. The more intricate and symmetrical the pattern, the more attractive that made a Mermaid (or man). Like all Mer’s, Bulma's Cobalt-coloured eyes emitted a faint glow, bright enough to illuminate her path, but not too much so to prevent others from seeing her natural blue eyes. The scales on her chest and tail were mostly ultramarine and depending on how the light reflected off her scales, it would glint in hues from neon green and emerald to the lightest of lilacs and amethyst. Bulma was what one would call a tri-color, a trait unique to the royal line. Her glow-scales,that created her illumen-pattern, shined a searing silver, and was intricately laced into her sapphire-coloured base scales. Her illuminated pattern swirled and spiralled up the sides of her tail and across her chest-scales. Well, it used to until she started losing them. Her teal hair was highlighted with light-emitting streaks as well and her tail and chest contained just the right amount of blubber to fill her powerful body quite nicely, creating that voluptuous finish without it being overbearing. All in all, she was one of the Queen’s most beautiful daughters and that fact, along with her being unattainable (due to her, up until recently, infertile state) also contributed much to her current fame.

As Bulma travelled through the city, she schooled her features with a determined and indifferent mask. She kept a pace brisk enough to ward off any interruptions. She knew her presence was an unusual sight, but she was a fish on a mission, and made sure everyone around her could see it. It was only upon actually entering the shopping district, that she started becoming uneasy. People stopped what they were doing to watch her pass, softly speculating among one another. She wanted to find that servant Orcana, and fast, so she could get her cloak back and blend in a bit better. She could sense herself gaining a couple of tails, trying to be inconspicuous –the media. She sighed and rolled her eyes. She would have to lose them, she decided. Still moving along swiftly, her thoughts occupied with plans of escape and worst case scenarios, she was almost taken off guard, when a hand reached out to grab her arm. Acting on instinct she swivelled and swung her trident, that she unclipped and unsheathed mid-spin, towards off the unauthorised contact, only for her trident to clang loudly against another’s. It took a split second for her to realize that the other trident belonged to one of her oldest friends and lieutenant in her ranks: Ray.

‘Jumpy much, Bull Shark?’ he teased.

‘I am not. You know better than to sneak up on me when I’m on a mission, Barracuda.’ She snipped, also addressing him by his arena title. ‘You’re lucky I didn’t blast you where you float.’

He laughed, ‘Sneaking? I did no such thing –you, my dearest General, were _distracted_.’ He tutted, ‘Rookie, error, might I add.’ Bulma pouted and her companion chuckled.

‘So, what brings you to this part of town?’ 

‘I told you, I’m on official palace du-’

‘Cut the kelp Bulma, you’re never on official business this far out. So..’ he interrupted confidently. Bulma Sighed, sometimes she forgot how sharp most of her soldiers were –living with her ditz of her sister and all.

‘Okay, Ray, you got me.’ She admitted in a defeated manner. ‘I’m actually here getting something for Marina’s coming of age party.’

‘What? No way, you don’t shop!’

‘Of course not, I’m a busy mermaid. I send servants to do things like that.’

‘Then why-’

‘Because it’s Marina. It’s not just _any_ sister –I have to make sure my baby-girl’s gift is perfect. So I’ve arranged to meet my servant on the other side of the shopping district after she was done.’

‘Kind of defeats the purpose of not coming here in the first place.’ He muttered, offering a lame shrug. ‘No matter though, we haven’t spoken in ages so I can use this to my advantage.’ He added slyly.

‘Oh really?’ she asked, cocking one of her eyebrows in an amused fashion.’

‘Yeah… Now you get to grab a bite with the wonderful and awe-inspiring Barracuda. You must feel so honoured.’ He sniffed arrogantly. Bulma laughed. ‘As much as I would love that,’ Bulma started, a sudden pang of sadness in her chest, ‘I can’t –I’m on pretend official business remember? Armor?’ She stated, gesturing to her attire, ‘and with the media already on my tail I really can’t afford the added burden of bad publicity. Ray nodded, disappointed, but understanding. It is what made him such a good friend and soldier too. Talking to Ray, Bulma was once again reminded of how many of her friends and loved one’s she would be leaving behind and found herself wondering if it was all really worth it. _It is_ , she resolved. _I’m going to lay low for a cycle of two until mother’s fertility period ends and Marissa is crowned the new Queen, then I’ll come back. And everyone will have forgotten about this whole debacle_. Before she could think to deeply on her decision to escape, the warrior-mermaid resolved that it would be best to get out fast, she could feel her mental shield being overwhelmed by her emotions and if she let anything slip at that crucial moment it would be bad, not to mention that it would only be a matter of time before she would have the whole monarchy out searching for her. She had made up her mind, she chastised herself, and a couple of goodbyes might be a hard price to pay for freedom, but it was definitely worth it.

‘I have to go Ray, wish me a successful ‘mission’.’ She said with a wink, adding a quick embrace, before swimming off, leaving her friend staring wistfully after her.

* * *

Vegeta glared distastefully up into the night sky, his lips parting in a vicious snarl to reveal a row of perfectly white teeth, most prominent of them being his overdeveloped incisors. It had been three weeks, he thought bitterly. Three weeks and his blasted –literally –Gravity Training Chamber had still not been repaired. Granted, he was the one who blew it up in the first place in one of his overzealous training sessions, but damn it that idiotic, scatterbrained Doctor sure took his sweet time with its reconstruction. Meanwhile, he was stuck wasting his time with menially light training on one of the planets many uninhabited and completely wild and useless islands. He could not even leave since his only ticket of the ‘kami-forsaken mudbull’ as he’d like to refer to it, was said Gravity machine that he had destroyed three weeks prior. Even worse: he could not even waste the pathetic life-forms that inhabited the planet as Kakarot would be on his ass with a swiftness that would make even Zarbon seethe with envy. 

“Kakarot” Vegeta spat venomously. The mere thought of the human-wannabe filled the Saiyan prince with a clawing rage that could only be subdued with the third class’s blood. Vegeta, for the millionth time, wondered how it was even possible that the proverbial runt of the Saiyan litter could have managed to attain the Legendary –the Super Saiyan–with minimal of effort while the Saiyan prince himself, who had nearly been killing himself for months on end, could barely touch it. Therein lies the root of Vegeta’s frustration, he had been close...so close to the transformation, he could feel that well of untapped power bubbling up inside of him, ready to explode like a geyser… the only thing that ended up exploding was the Gravity machine. After regaining consciousness in the infirmary three days later and in light of his recent almost-achievement; the prince had, naturally, been itching to continue with his maniacal training regime, eager to find out how much of a power jump his near death experience had gained him. Well, the rest, as the humans say, is history. Vegeta had decided, upon discovering that he would be without the Gravity Training Chamber for a while, that the best environment for training would be somewhere he could blow things up without worrying about Kakarot sticking his nose into his business. Needless to say, the majority of the previously lush island the Prince had chosen for his training territory was now scorched and cratered beyond recognition.

From his reclined position on a bed of sea sand, the fire crackled restlessly beside him, illuminating the skeletal remains of his earlier dinner as well as his hastily erected –or rather ‘decapsulated’ shelter. Vegeta smirked, knowing the right people definitely made a difference. Vegeta had been introduced to the Briefs couple and their revolutionary inventions shortly after his accidental resurrection. After an epic and fatal battle with the his tyrannical overlord on planet Namek, Vegeta had suddenly found himself on the green-grassed, blue skyed planet Earth; sitting under a tree as if everything was just flowers and sunshine. At first he thought that the big red guy at the check-in desk in the afterlife had made a mistake; accidentally sending him up and not down. Especially since he found himself surrounded by some of the peace loving green folk of whom he himself had a part in slaughtering in his hunt for the dragonballs. Such thoughts had quickly been shoved aside as he listened to the earthlings discussing the fate of planet Namek, Frieza and the recently turned Super Saiyan, Kakarot. Safe to say that Vegeta had not been happy, but this time he did not wallow in self-pity as he had on Namek when he begged Kakarot to avenge their people and planet –crying like a newborn cub. Vegeta grimaced, the humiliating memory still and probably always would leave a bad taste in his mouth until the day he reclaimed his destiny and pride and finally bested that goody-two-shoes that called himself a Sayan. No, Vegeta thought resentfully, there would be no time for mourning the ill turn of events that that vindictive bitch Fate had bestowed on him. He had decided to resume his training, patiently biding his time until Kakarot's return, and then he would challenge the bastard and reclaim his former status as strongest Saiyan alive.

It was the bald midget that had made the request for the off-worlders be granted accommodation at Capsule Corporation until their planet could be restored by the Dragonballs. He was off course referring to the Namekians, but it was at that moment that the blonde bimbo, whom he had later discovered was the doctor’s wife, spotted the Saiyan Prince. It took all of his willpower not to blast the idiotic woman where she stood for daring to lay her filthy hands on his royal person; gushing words like ‘handsome’ and ‘rugged’. Though, it didn’t take much to convince him that accompanying the grossly mismatched pair and refugee Namekians back to their residential abode would be very much to his benefit. Very much to his benefit indeed; what with the doctor carrying on about his Gravity Training Chamber that he had apparently invented for Kakarot's use on his way to Namek and the woman (who had still been clinging to his arm like some mutated leech) insistence on preparing him a meal. The Earth fighters, convinced that their hero had not survived the destruction of Namek, had decided to resurrect Kakarot as soon as the two sets of Dragonballs were recharged and that gave Vegeta about 5 Earth solar months to prepare. Of course, when it was time to make the wishes it was discovered that the Super Saiyan had survived after all…

That was about the time when Vegeta stole the gravity machine to start his year long fruitless search for the wayward third class, returning for a refuel only to find that his not-dead, but mechanized lizard-master was on his way to blow their collective asses sky-high for the insult dealt by earth’s special forces, especially the still MIA Super Saiyan. Imagine Vegeta’s horror, as he had been fully prepared to die bravely (once again) in battle as a true Saiyan should, when some monstrosity with purple hair that claimed to be Saiyan (and turned golden as proof) showed up and wasted the two ice lizards in a matter of seconds. Why does the universe hate him so much, he wondered for the utmost time.

The rest was all a blur of time travelling, golden Saiyans flaunting their legendary strengths and android warnings that apparently meant the end of the world as they knew it in three years. He honestly couldn't care less what happened to the planet, all that stood out for him was that these two tin cans were supposed to end his life in three years time and he would be double damned (since he’s already damned once) if he lets a piece of machinery be the end of the him: the Prince of All Saiyans. So he trains, yet not for the preservation of some mudball planet like Earth’s moronic forces. No. He trained for the only thing left worth fighting for in his blood-stained life, since his honor is a long time gone; dead by Frieza’s hand, buried by Kakarot's. He trained for his Saiyan Pride.

And once the battle is over and his Pride is saved, he will fight for the resurrection of said dead honor by methodically beating the shit out of Kakarot before mounting his head on a spit.

First things first, though, he needed to become a Super Saiyan. With this thought, the jaded prince stood, now rested and his massive appetite well sated, and resumed his masochistic training regime once again.

Vegeta froze, midway through one of his katas. His brows furrowed as he honed in on the momentary flare of ki he had sensed in his immediate vicinity. _No_ , he thought, _not ‘immediate’ –still far off. Moving towards him –quickly… Coming from… below?_ If it weren’t the fact that this **sentient** energy he sensed so briefly, seemed so bizarrely **powerful,** compared to that of an average human, of course, Vegeta doubted he would have detected, much less paid any mind to it. As is, he found the development intriguing, this creature that seemed to be heading in his direction from the depths of the ocean had a power level on par with the human Z-fighters of earth. If it weren’t for the fact that he had already become familiar with each of Earth’s Z-fighters’ kis, he would have pegged the energy to be one of theirs. Curious, and not in the least bit alarmed, the Saiyan Prince made his way over to the general area where he sensed he would encounter this being, that is –if it kept moving in a similar direction as it currently was. He hovered above the island, his senses focused on the erratic spikes and dips he felt in this ‘person’s’ ki as it spiralled its way up to the water surface. It took but a moment for the Saiyan to identify the reason for this anxious flaring: this creature was being followed..no, chased, he guessed, by a stronger, more beastly energy. At that moment, the water began to swirl into the beginnings of a twister and the sky darkened with thunderclouds. The prospect of the impending violence that he was sure would accompany the revelation of this mystery-being sent a pleasant chill down his spine. The slight twitch in the corner of his mouth was the only indication of his swelling interest in this conundrum of events.

He watched, as if in slow motion, the silver three-pronged spear burst through the torrents and his breath hitched in his throat when he could finally identify the creature who held it. ‘Blue’ was his first coherent thought when seeing her. ‘Gorgeous’ was the second. Water-slicked dark-teal hair clung to the side of her face, her Sapphire eyes burned with determination and desperation as she propelled herself from the helix of water and … suddenly his mind went blank as he traced her armour-clad form down to her, what he previously thought had been a dark blue glittering fabric that clung wetly to her voluptuous hips and legs. She shot from the waters at such a velocity that her body was completely revealed and only now could Vegeta identify the glistening ultramarine for what it really was: scales, fish scales. For a fraction of a second Vegeta thought that a fish was latched onto her legs, already having swallowed the lower half of the blue-haired beauty, but Saiyan sight was sharp and Vegeta quickly reassured himself that he was indeed seeing a human-looking woman with the lower body of a fish, there was no time to dwell on the strangeness of the creature as the cause for the desperate look in her eyes and fiercely determined snarl on her face made itself known.


	4. Caution: High Voltage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're back with the adventuring mermaid. Bulma's escape it going swimmingly... until it's not.  
> When things go from bad to worse can the wily mermaid figure out a way to escape with her life without losing her limbs?

After retrieving her belongings, along with a brand new breast-cover,Bulma donned her cloak, pulled the hood up and continued on. She swam briskly until the end of the industrial area then right through the slums to reach the outer wall. Afterwards, it was only a matter of slipping discreetly through the main gates alongside the flow of travelling merchants and visitors constantly moving through. With her identity neatly hidden by the long cloak, no one paid her much notice, and her journey was rather uneventful within the well-travelled channels that stretched between their allied waters.

According to her map, Bulma would have to leave the Mammalian domain, merfolk with dual functioning lugs like herself and her people, to pass through the Eelian-territory. Her current course would take her into what the map refers to as the Redemption’s Pass. She recalled from Eelian Merfolk traditions, that the Mer-eels were the guardians of this passage way, and would grant anyone seeking ‘redemption’ –as it were– access to it, impartially. This pass lead one into a shark infested cavern called the Sharks Den. If she could manage to get through that safely, it would be a short swim to The Reef. Once there, she’ll reassess how to proceed. With her path well in mind, Bulma used the long swim through the hub-structured cave she had just entered to meditate, once again, on her reasons for leaving and her reasons for continuing on when the chances of success seemed so small.

Being a sensible mermaid, Bulma could acknowledge that her current course was completely illogical. Her destination was shrouded in mystery and legends; having absolutely no factual foundation. Her journey would most likely cause her death and her reason for leaving was petty and egotistical. Even the notion that Mammalian Merfolk could survive on Land was never actually proven –just stories from her childhood. Considering all the aforementioned points, she should have high-tailed her way back a long time ago. Her ambitious journey simply didn’t make any sense… And yet, Bulma felt herself unable to stop; unable to turn back, there seemed to be this nagging feeling deep within her soul, that was constantly pushing her forward –logic be damned. It felt right –she needed to take this path. Thus, the determined mermaid continued on, all the while thinking of ways to convince the gateway guards to allow her onto the pass that led firstly into the wilderness and inevitably into enemy territory.

She was currently moving through a large ravine,much like the caves cities and towns were built in, except it had many exit-tunnel sand fissures that could be found in the surfaces of its walls. It functioned like a great traffic hub: some of the its tunnel-branches were Merfolk-built, but the majority of them were naturally formed. Some lead into allied cities and some into the agricultural sites, from where her people harvested all the raw materials they needed to sustain their society. Foods were collected in the shallows, and metal and gems in the deeper waters, close to the volcanic ores coming from the earth’s core. Then there were also tunnels that were pathways into the wilderness, where colonies of bandits and hostile rural tribes ruled supreme. Such tunnels were always gated and fortified by a military base in close proximity to it. The base’s primary objective being to prevent any and all unauthorised exits and entrances, which, suffice to say, would present a problem to the fleeing mermaid. If it weren’t for the fact that she was currently keeping a low profile; she might have pulled military rank to gain access to the outside dominions. 

She knew that all exits were diligently guarded, though, and none but an enemy attack would distract those soldiers from their posts. Bulma was thus left with one, very unpleasant option. An age old diversion tactic: terrorism. 

As stealthily as she could manage, and with her energy so low her bioluminescence was barely detectable, Bulma swerved for the base with the perfect target in mind: The armory, isolated enough for a relatively easy access and minimal collateral damage, and also significant enough that they’ll all come swimming when it eventually went boom. Being no stranger to covert operations, the six guards Bulma quietly knocked out and stashed proved to be a minor and she thus reached her destination with little difficulty. Once there, she decided to grab a few toys that might come in handy on her journey; and then, taking a deep breath, she called on her power, using her trident to form it into a stable sphere of heavily compressed, bright-blue energy. Stretching her control to its limits, she made her way to the exit, keeping the ball of volatile energy floating steadily in the weapons room. Unfortunately, with her using all her concentration for controlling the highly destructive nature of her energy-ball, Bulma’s ‘glow’ was back to its original intensity, and when the sudden,

‘Hey you! What the are you doing in here’ of a nearby patrolling officer tore through her mind, the only reply she had time for before it all blew sky high was:

‘Oh Kelp’ 

When the blackness finally faded, Bulma found herself floating limply on a pile of debris. A glint of silver in her peripheral told her that her trident was not far behind and all around her soldiers were swimming to and from about the newly destroyed building. It was the perfect time to slip out, it seemed, if it weren’t for the fact that her senses have yet to return to her completely. The next thing she knew, she was being yanked upright by her arm. By heavily ingrained reflex she twisted out of the person’s hold and manoeuvred him/her into an arm-lock. When she regained enough of her bearing to assess her situation, four tridents were pointed threateningly in her direction from all around her.

_ Kelp… so not my day _

She grudgingly let freed the poor mermaid from the painful lock and raised her hands in a submissive manner. It was then that her ripped cloak revealed, not only her armor, but her Royal-hued tail as well. 

Things were so not going as planned… and she was fresh out of clever solutions

‘Ge- ge –General?’ came the timid appeal from the black haired mermaid she had just freed. Still, having no way to salvage the situation, Bulma naturally resorted to what she was most notorious for: She ranted: 

‘What the hell are you all floating about for, Maggots!’ she suddenly demanded with all the authority her status and rank afforded her. ‘Shouldn’t you be hunting for the one responsible for this?’

‘My Lady, we have no idea who did this.’ The merman beside her answered up. Their tridents already returned to pointing in a safer direction.

‘Of course you don’t...’ she replied haughtily, having no idea where she was going with this, but certain that if she sounded confident she would not be questioned. ‘Now, I have order to bring about so leave me be and tend to all you find seriously injured.’ She waved them off dispassionately. 

‘But General, shouldn’t you head to the infirmary?’ another mermaid asked.

‘Worry yourself with your duties and leave me be. That’s an order,  _ soldier _ .’

With that, she practically tore her hood back on and grabbed her trident, unmindful of the eyes following every beat of her tail as she proceeded to search for her missing bag.

_ Kelp kelpkelpkelp  _ her mind raced, it was all messed up –royally screwed. She was supposed to leave unnoticed and therefore have no concerns about leaving any leads as to her whereabouts.  _ Okay, Bulma, it’s not the end yet. There’s still a chance to get out before anyone notices. If only I can find my stupid ba –Oh, there it is _ … 

Her bag’s strap was broken, it looked a bit worse for wear but ultimately it still held her belongings securely. The gates were obviously locked when she reached them, but as she predicted,thankfully unguarded and she managed to get out without notice, leaving only a broken gate as her last legacy to the place of her birth.

Bulma carefully counted every other tunnel she passed before turning off as the map indicated. In the wild, it was almost impossible to differentiate one tunnel-branch from the other. Now and again, she spotted signs that indicated a rural village was probably located nearby: a mounted shark’s jaw for example. Those areas she too gave a wide berth. After what seemed like ages of swimming Bulma decided that it was time for a rest and found herself a hole, small and deep enough, to offer adequate shelter from predators and enemies alike. She sheathed her trident and placed it in the hollow, along with the broken bag she was still holding in her other hand, then settled in a comfortable heap and promptly fell asleep.

Bulma battled her way to the surface of consciousness, past the pounding behind her temples and the heaviness of her eyelids and blinked groggily up at an unfamiliar, barred ceiling. As waking up in a strange place was a frequent occurrence in the young warrior’s adventurous life, she didn’t panic. She also didn’t concentrate too hard in recalling what had gotten her to her current location, so as to not aggravate her already aching head. It will come back, she knew. Meanwhile, she launched into a reappraisal of some basic facts about her condition. Her identity and general past was a firmly established truth in her memory. Bulma the princess; Bull shark the warrior – and suddenly she recalled the attack.

The Blue-haired mermaid princess found herself being rudely awakened by a sharp pain in the bottom of a tail. Before she had time to investigate she was suddenly being yanked out of her hollow and made a desperate grab for her sheathed weapon; only to feel it slip helplessly through her fingers. She emerged then, pulled tail first, and the unarmed but never defenceless mermaid immediately twisted in the grasp of her assailant and socked him a good one, smiling in satisfaction when she felt something crunch under her fist. The stunned merman let go of her tail and Bulma, after noting that she was outnumbered, used the moment to dive back into the grotto that held her things, but her attempt was cut short by another pair of arms grabbing her own and twisting it into a painful lock-hold behind her back, and she suddenly found herself pressed face-first into the rock-surface.

‘Woah, there missy…’ her attacker tauntingly commanded.

‘Let go of me!’ was her demanding reply while she struggled in her attacker’s grasp. ‘Let go of me you creep!’ A painful jolt suddenly entered her body, travelling from the top of her arms to her tail, followed by an exhausting numbness and she bit down hard to keep from whaling. She finally knew who she was dealing with. The attack she felt could only be used by one race of Merfolk: an Eelian. From her side she heard a groan, followed by ‘I think the squirmy little she-worm broke my nose!’

‘I know,’ the person behind her replied in an amused fashion, ‘feisty little thing, isn’t she? Pretty as an Angelfish too…’

‘What are we gonna do with her, Boss?’ another one jumped into the conversation.

‘She’s wearing armor. She might be dangerous.’ Yet another one added. All mental connections were cut as this  _ Boss _ person seemed to contemplate his next move. 

‘She seemed awfully frantic to reach that there cave, Boys… Sharkbate, go check it out’ Bulma jerked slightly in her captor’s hold, another wily scheme already taking form in her brilliant mind.’ The lackey called Shakbate’s luminescence caught her peripheral view briefly as he entered her cave and again when he exited a few moments later.

‘Well well well, it seems our catch of the day is a soldier after all.’ The Boss’s remark was followed by amused titters all around. She presumed they were referring to her trident.

‘Awe, Boss –she’s too gorgeous to be a soldier. Look those blue locks –you don’t find hair like that in every cave.’ This comment was followed by the sensation of a tugging on her hair. With her plan now fully formed, Bulma could do nothing but bite back the spiteful reply her pride would have caused her to express. With a sudden sense of spinning Bulma found herself with her back pinned to the wall and staring into the ice-blue bulging eyes of her Mer-eel captor. She had to restrain herself from recoiling when seeing the wide serpent-like jaw and two sharp, needle-like fangs protruding from the small, pouty lips of the merman before her.

‘What’s a pretty little Mer-mammal doing so far away from her home-turf?’ He asked snidely, ‘deserter?’

‘Hey, Boss –there’s some pretty interrestin’ junk here in her bag…’

One by one, her stolen weapons were being pulled from her bag. Her purse of money was immediately pocketed, which confirmed her suspicions that she was probably dealing with bandits. The priestly robe was received with many a furrowed brow and the jewelled breast-cover seemed to evoke even more confusion. She was suddenly infinitely glad that her map was stashed in her armor breastplate.

‘Tell me, Mammalian, just where did you get your hands on all these… unusual things.’

‘Stole them…’ was her detached reply, he cocked an interested eyebrow.

‘So what are you then? Deserting soldier, wayward priestess or common thief?’

When she kept silent, his frustrated sneer was the only warning she had before his claws dug into her arms and he released another spell of paralysing electricity. Again, Bulma had to grit her teeth to keep from crying out. After the torture proved in vain, the leader simply sniffed and pulled at her unresponsive form. Another merman appeared at her side, grabbing on to her other arm and started dragging her along.

‘S’no matter then,’ the Boss finally said, ‘we’ll find out who you are soon enough. I recall that a rainbow-tail like yours means that you’re someone important, right? I bet whoever you’re swimming away from would pay dearly to have you back… and so would the Eelian government.’

‘You’re taking me into Eel-turf then?’ she tried not to sound too hopeful. He stopped, turning to regard her with a perplexed frown, their gazes locked and after a moment his silver-blue eyes suddenly became guarded. He wasn’t dumb, and he realized, perhaps too late, that she wasn’t to be taken lightly either. The hand that gripped her arm tightened momentarily.

‘See to it that this one does not get within a tail of that trident.’ He barked out harshly. His tone warranted no questions. The majority of the journey onwards, proceeded in tense silence. 

Bulma shifted uncomfortably in her armor, trying to relieve the itch beneath her breastplate. Her chest scales were acting up again and her hands were tied tightly behind her back. She had been captured by Mer-eel bandits not too long ago, and they put her in a cage as soon as they reached their camp site. She had been waiting ages for their leader to return. The ‘Boss’ was off ‘bartering’ her bounty-price with some high ranking individual in the Mer-eel authorities. The bastard took her trident along too and left her with his kelp-for-brains lackeys to deal with. Bulma sighed tiredly and awkwardly tried to relieve some of the itchiness she had in her… everywhere by rubbing against the cage-bars. The worms didn’t even have the common courtesy to provide her with a school of cleaner-fish. She hadn’t had the opportunity to cleanse herself since she left the city and school of Blue-steak wrasses were easily and cheaply acquired. Really, she wasn’t asking for much. Sadly, the only blue streak exchanged between captives and hostage ended up being the indignant cussing of the feisty mermaid-warrior when her humble request was flat out denied...

She didn’t know when she fell asleep, but Bulma was again rudely awakened; this time by a jolt of Mer-eel electricity pulsing through the specially crafted metal of her cage. Her extensively colourful sentiments could be picked up tails away and the bandit leader was once again the perpetrator. He was grinning like a maniac at her displeasure, his needle-like fangs glinting ominously. She would get him, she swore, and knock those pointy little teeth right out of his mouth. All of them–once she got out of this Neptune-forsaken cage she’d tail-whip all of them so hard they’d be short-circuited out for a week.

Right now, though, she needed them to safely ‘escort’ her through Eelian territory. Bulma’s plan for eventual escape was dependent on the hope that the Eelian Merfolk valued tradition to the extent that she’d be able to drift out of their territory through the Redemption’s Pass relatively unscathed. It was her only chance at escaping alive.

‘Time to go’ the Boss said, ignoring her death-glare.

‘Where’s my trident, Boss-man?’ she sneered.

‘It be safe, wench’

‘It better be!’

‘Or what, little Mammalian?’

‘Let me out of this cage and I’ll show you what, you boggle-eyed maggot!’

His only reply was an amused chuckle. ‘You, know, if your new owner didn’t just pay me three-hundred in gold, I would have argued that you’re not the ‘all that’ you think you are… but since I’m a smart fish, I’d say it be best if we keep them chains on for the remainder of our journey together, ey? On second thought…’

Bulma could do nothing but float helplessly as he reached for the back of her neck, the electric strike was felt only momentarily before the world around her went black again.

‘Ah, the notorious General Bull Shark –how nice to see you again...’ her procurer drawled as soon as she floated through, what seemed to be, his office doors. The bandit leader was at her back, with her tied hands still firmly in his grip. The Mer-eel at word was sitting atop an elaborate work-desk, twirling HER trident on the tips of his fingers. His eel-like lower half was swaying lazily to and fro. He then reached behind him and brought out a little bag, which he tossed over and it floated neatly into her captor’s hands. It jingled slightly, indicating that it probably contained money.

The new Mer-eel ‘s tail was all black and vertically striped with silver streaks that pulsed with light at a low frequency, an indication that he was relaxed. She recognized him as easily as he did her: Knives, first Lieutenant to the Eelian Prince himself. The same Lieutenant that she all but impaled on the very trident he was twirling so nonchalantly.

‘Knives,’ she answered with the same falsely pleasant tone in which he spoke, ‘I thought you were dead.’

He frowned at the implied taunt, the pulsing of his tail-stripes sped up slightly as he rose from his unconventional seat.

‘As you can see, General, I am very much alive.’ He replied in a now dark tone. As he approached her she noticed a very pronounced three-fold scar on his chest and mentally sighed. Again, things were not going to go as smoothly as she planned. ‘Unfortunately for you,’ he continued and started swimming in a circle around her –the arc of his tail sizzling with electricity as it coiled around her, ‘you won’t be able to say the same in a moment or two.’

Fantastic…First a greedy eel, now a vengeful one.

Refusing to be intimidated by his threat and the electricity sparking within inches of her mammalian body, Bulma kept her cool expression as she casually replied:

‘So... you pay a fortune to obtain me, and then simply kill me?’ 

He stopped, and Bulma watched him as he seemingly considered her words for a moment, only to shrug untroubled and continue his ‘circle of death’.

‘For the privilege to kill you myself –the infamous mammalian royal turned warrior elite; the one said to be strongest in all of Mer-realm... why, I consider it a fortune well spent.’

‘Typical,’ Bulma sneered. Her fate really seemed to be taking a turn for the worst. This was a fish that wanted her dead, so appealing to reason was out of the question, thus she moved on to her next target: his pride ‘you Eelians are all the same: cowards, through and through. Any Mer could kill restrained prey... I don’t blame you, though. You would never be able to take me otherwise. That nasty little scar on your chest proves it.’ She chucked dryly, ‘Kelp, even this son of a she-worm behind me has more of a spine than you do, Knives…’

With an enraged roar he suddenly thrust at her with the trident. Bulma considered dodging the strike, before disregarding the instinct. She kept her gaze defiantly locked with his as he moved to spear her with her own weapon… The blades stopped just before it pierced the skin of her exposed throat and Bulma didn’t know whether to sigh in relief or grin in triumph as her gamble proved spot on.

‘Curse you, you Mammalian scum! I am no coward!’ He snarled, lowering the pointy weapon, a seemingly painful decision by the look on his face. 

‘Honorless then. What warrior worth his salt would not choose to face his opponent at their full strength?’

‘I have honor, Mammal!’ He swam in circles then, presumably contemplating his next move. 

‘Prove it then, Lieutenant. Permit me to go on my way to the Redemption’s Pass.’

In his surprise, he stopped mid loop, dropping her trident and spun to stare at her, his already bulging eyes growing wide enough to nearly pop from his skull. After a moment they narrowed again suspiciously, and he continued his circling.

‘What’s your game, mermaid?’ he asked, scepticism clearly evident from his thoughts.

‘No game, Knives. I simply wish to reach The Reef.’

He chuckled humorlessly. ‘Is that right? Pray tell Bull Shark –why would I pay a fortune acquiring you, only to let you go off to commit ritual suicide? Don’t think I do not know what you are doing. I will not be fooled into helping you escape. You’re dying by my hands, General.’ 

‘I’m serious Knives. Why the Kelp else would I be floating in your office right this moment. Granted, I wish it weren’t you –a lower ranking court official would also have sufficed… Say Boss-man,’ she turned her head to regard the bandit leader, still floating awkwardly in the corner of the room –‘you sure do have friends in shallow places…’

‘What nonsense are you talking, Bull Shark. You’re here because you had your pathetic tail captured by bandit-scum.’ 

Now it was Bulma’s turn to laugh, ‘You think I couldn’t have gotten out when I wanted? Those ‘bandit-scum’ are lucky that I have such impeccable self-restraint or they would have been Shark-chum ages ago… Bull Shark chum.’ she repeated with a malicious stare. With this she turned to face the lonely bandit again, giving him a particularly predatory grin. ‘I simply hitched a ride with the fiends, avoiding unnecessary harassment from the territorial commoners of your race… I’d say I couldn't have made better time getting here.’

From the corner of her eyes she saw the aforementioned bandit attempting to slip out the door and acted with a swiftness that had left both Eelians in the room reeling. With one quick sweep she broke her bonds and grabbed her trident, firing a blast at the escaping bandit that intentionally missed him by a hair's breadth, then spun to apprehend the Eelian Lieutenant. By the time the guards came bursting through the door, she already had their commander in a very compromised position. Her trident spears were resting neatly under his chin. He coiled his tail around her and attempted electrocuting her, but the prepared warrior drew the energy with her trident until it glowed searing white with power.

‘Tell them to back off or you’ll find yourself very headless very soon, Knives.’ She said, referring to the surrounding guards. When he did so, she cheekily added – ‘Oh, and do send someone to retrieve that escaping worm of a bandit… I have a score to settle –I’m sure you understand,’ she said, fingers brushing pointedly over the three scars she left on him in their past battle. Growling, he grudgingly acquiesced.

‘Now,’ Bulma started after the departure of the guards, ‘I don’t have any particular sushi with you, Knives, and what happened in the past, that was just war; no need to get your tail in a twist about it> We all have our fair share of battle scars and near death experiences so there’s really no need to take it personally.’ She reasoned, unperturbed about the nervous commander’s frequent attempts at electrocuting her. ‘You said you’re a fish of honour, and If I’m not mistaken it is Eelian custom to admit anyone the opportunity to attempt the Redemption’s Pass. According to your history it was a rite of passage, even, for brave young mermen to travel through and bring back a White Death’s hide…’

‘What of it, Bull Shark? That was before the sacred Reef was discovered. It is now constituted as an execution method for death row criminals and the way of eternal servitude to the realm Guardian… practically a euphemism for suicide.’

‘I’m not planning on dying, Lieutenant.’

‘You’re not planning on turning priestly and serving the Guardian Dragon, either. You have too much of a warrior’s spirit for that… I ask again, what business do you have in the sacred shallows of the Reef?’

‘My business is my own, Eel –and you are obligated by the blood that flows in your body and those of your race, to admit me on that pass.’

‘I’m obligated nothing, mammal.’

‘Then I might as well kill you now and your pathetic little entourage too and plead my case on death row. You know I can do it…’

It was silent as he contemplated her statement.

Unsurprisingly, Bulma found herself being cordially escorted on her merry way to the seemingly suicidal Redemption's Pass…Well, after she made good on her promise to sock Mister Bandit Boss-man one good, leaving him permanently fangless. (The offences of his brainless lackeys would be overlooked, she decided benevolently) Her request to leave was even cleared by the Eelian prince himself, the gullible oaf. It is common knowledge that Eelian Royalty makes none of their own decisions, and rules on the whim of their advisers –much like Bulma’s own monarchy. Apparently, the mammalian warrior’s presence in their domain made the Mer-eels very nervous, and they would rather free her than kill her and risk the wrath of the mammalians, who were at current the dominant society in the mer-realms. They were only too happy that she was voluntarily choosing the path from which no one returns; and the little compromise they made with her –allowing her to enter the pass fully armed, which apparently is against the law –was only a minor in light of the fact that she would be out of their hair for good. 

While travelling through their city, Bulma had a hard time managing the mild case of claustrophobia she felt. Unlike her merrace, who preferred large caverns and wide tunnels, the Eelians seem to prefer narrow spaces. Most of their passageways were uncomfortably tight. Thus when she finally reached her exit, the large, creepy and dark abyss that proved to be the Redemption’s Pass suddenly seemed almost welcoming – almost...

About half-way through, though, Bulma was ready to turn tail and swim back home, the mermaid had needed to contend with jagged edges, unstable spires, lurking creepy-crawlies trying to sink their teeth into her and a series of even tighter squeezes than the thoroughfares in the Eelian domain. Needless to say, when she finally reached the passage that would take her straight into the shark infested hollow, she had so many cuts and abrasions she might as well have been swimming in with a pulsing ‘Eat-me’ sigh over her head.  _ Small wonder the path was considered suicide _ , Bulma thought.

Bulma considered the last tunnel she would have to squeeze through to reach her next destination – it had more unstable looking spires hanging from its ceiling – already she could make out what seemed the impaled skeletal remains of a previous traveller near the entrance. It was not the first corpse she encountered on her ‘journey for redemption’. It also had jagged-edged ridges all around the passage walls. The most dangerous element of the tunnel though, was the current swirling through it, sucking everything that entered it right through.

Since the Blue-haired mermaid was not planning on becoming fish-paté anytime soon, she took the only other logical course to avoid getting blended –she blasted her way through.

It took quite some time, because she had to split her concentration between smoothing out the rough edges of the tunnel walls with a steady stream of spiralling energy,  _ and _ keeping herself from being pulled in by the current herself. She ended up having to take a few rest periods and after she was satisfied that the tunnel no longer functioned as a shredder, she found herself a nice comfortable, creepy-crawliless hole and bedded down for the time being.

When she awoke her wounds were half-healed, but not completely clean. Bulma decided then to make her first priority finding a school of cleaner fishes. Sharks always had some form of cleansing organisms in close proximity, so she figured it would be an easy deal to steal some of their hygiene services –staying a reasonable distance away from their jaws –of course. Not to misunderstand, Bulma was by no means afraid of sharks; she has had quite a few life-threatening encounters with them in her past adventures as an upstart young soldier on Gate-guard duty. She knew how to hold her own, but not even the most experienced warriors can be saved when caught in the middle of a feeding frenzy… Personal experience has taught her at least that much. So, it was with the greatest trepidation that she finally proceeded. She used her left hand to steady her course through; her right hand was stretched out before her and held firmly onto her sheathed trident’s staff; she winced when she felt her skin and scales drag painfully over a rough edge that couldn’t be completely flattened. Fortunately, no skin was broken.

The Shark’s Den was a large cavern and its walls were much like the passage into it was–decorated with many a flesh-slicing edge. It kind of reminded Bulma of shark teeth, like she was literally swimming into the mouth of a shark; and despite the danger of it, Bulma could not help but find the cavern beautiful and very fitting. She also could not help but feel a bit disappointed when the only sharks she could see were a few white-tips and one hammerhead meandering about. Where were the big players, she wondered: the Bulls, the Tigers and the Great Whites?

The warrior-princess definitely wasn’t lamenting for long, for the next instant deadly jaws were coming right at her at an almost break-neck speed. She dodged the Mako Shark just in time –one of the fastest breeds in the ocean and before it had the opportunity to go for another bite, whacked it over its gills with the staff of her trident. It quickly got the message: Bulma was no snack, she was a predator like they were, and the lesser predator needed to learn its place. The warrior-princess didn’t know much about the mental abilities of sharks, but the little scuffle seemed to impress on the other inhabitants that she was not one to be trifled with, except one juvenile Great White. That one was dealt with much the same as the Mako and it darted off quickly too. The cavern was vast, and thus Bulma had to find a relatively safe space to float and study her map. While she considered her course, she felt a little caress in her tail and looked down to see a common cleaner wrasse pecking at her. Soon there were three and Bulma was enjoying her first cleanse in days. It felt good, and the mermaid was tempted to remove her armor so that they could get to her irritated chest. Deciding against risking the vulnerability in shark infested waters, she went without the upper-body clean.

Great Whites and Tiger Sharks started appearing more often the further into the cavern she swam, so she did manage to find the big boys after all. She could also feel the drag on the water decreasing, meaning she was entering shallower waters.

It was a tedious task finding the entrance to the Reef. The main reason was that the truce with sharks seemed to have lasted only a limited time and she found herself dodging more and more investigative bites. Luckily for the mermaid, she could swim much faster with the reduced pressure of shallower waters and had an easier time dodging the snapping jaws. One Tiger Shark was quite relentless though, it kept trying to eat her with an alternating attack-retreat technique, always returning no matter how many times she whacked it (without drawing blood, of course). Another trial was the fact that the entrance was hidden. According to her map’s description, it was a little passage located in the middle of four spires arranged in a diamond shape. This arrangement was unique to a specific grotto and when she found it, the mermaid almost did an about-face when she realized this sub-cavern was located in what seemed to be Great White breeding waters.

The persistent Tiger Shark stopped following her as soon as she entered White Death’s waters and she couldn’t help but note that there is something to be said about the intellect of these predators. She had quite a tough time fending off territorial three to four tail-long females, but she managed to clear a big-enough area around the small entrance to risk swimming through. Bulma thus made her way, head first into the hollow. Only slightly confident about the protection the surrounding spires afforded her. She had barely managed to squeeze her chest into the entrance, left arm and shoulder stretching in to pull her body through, right, trident wielding arm outside, when she felt a core-rocking ram come from underneath her and hit her square in her stomach and upper-tail. The mermaid was then roughly jerked from the hole and pulled right back into the red-tinged waters of the Great White’s grotto.

She felt no pain, just winded shock. Her right arm hung lamely on the snout of the Great White that had its teeth imbedded into her tail and midriff, and her trident was slowly sinking to the floor of the cavern. And in that moment the warrior was at a total loss about what to do. Her bio-light shone far enough to reveal that the water around her was fast turning from red-tinged to an opaque crimson, but Bulma found herself looking intently into the black hole in front of her. 

Completely paralysed.

For a moment there was nothing but the black eye of her predator, so empty, yet almost taunting, and then it was over. It thrashed, and with it came the pain of being slowly ripped apart, her armor likely saving her from just that fate. Bulma was suddenly snapped out of her stunned stupor and started to grapple. In a desperate endeavour to survive, even though the odds were dwindling, Bulma stuck both her hands into the mouth of the shark: one on the bottom, one on the top and attempted to pry it open with her superior strength –which was dwindling as fast as her odds. Uncaring of the teeth slicing through her hands, the mermaid pushed. In the blurry red water, the mermaid noted the shadows of those also looking for a bite of the action and let out a distressed cry. Pushing with all of her strength, Bulma felt the teeth dislodge from her scales, and wasted no time on relief. She was out with a flick of her tail, bumping into another open-mouthed White, rows of razor-edged teeth heading right for her head. With another anguished cry the Blue-haired mermaid twisted her punctured tail swiftly and smacked the shark under its jaw, blocking out the pain of her tearing wounds. Then dove in the direction her trident fell, slamming into one of the sharp-edged rock-piles in her haste. Bulma checked behind her briefly, seeing nothing but a red haze. Once on the grotto floor, the warrior-mermaid attempted to regain her focus, since one cannot perform complex energy techniques in a panic. It didn’t take long for her to recall the skill, Bulma watched the floor intently for her trident; and when it suddenly lit up with her energy she wasted no time diving for it.


	5. Hear it Roar!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma wakes up in a strange place with a strange creature tending to her wounds.  
> He seems harmless enough, in another life, Bulma thinks they might even be friends, if only his people weren't hell bent on sacrificing her to a giant sea-serpent.

_I’m dead._

There was no other explanation. No alternative, Bulma’s hazy mind concluded when her blue eyes opened groggily to view a strange new world –several shades of blue lighter than the world she was used to seeing. It was the _Otherworld_ –it had to be! The last thing she recalled was the white flash of her final desperate attempt at saving herself from frenzied sharks. The blast burnt them to a crisp, but it was too late. She had already lost too much blood; her energy was shot and her vision fading, hence she could say with certain finality that she must, indeed, be dead.

Blinking twice, the cyan-haired mermaid’s senses suddenly cleared and so did her awareness of her environment. Bulma quickly realized that her first conclusion needed some revision. Surely dead mermaids didn’t wake up on soft, spongy beds with splitting headaches and feeling like they’ve been rammed into by an adult Great White Shark. Also, dead mermaids definitely didn’t wake up with two-tails of seaweed wrapped around their abdomen and upper tail, thus by deductive reasoning Bulma revised that she was alive after all. How she was alive though, was still beyond her, and the adventurous little mermaid was determined to investigate the matter further; starting with where in the name of Neptune she was. 

After struggling for a few minutes, attempting to lift herself, it hurt like a sting-ray’s ass to do any sort of tail flexing, the exhausted princess found that she wasn’t making any significant progress and lay back down with an exasperated sigh. She then settled for observing her surroundings from the bed. The room was sparsely furnished: bed, small glass table beside the bed, a fish tank lantern on the far side of room and the natural fissures in the rock walls of the room formed a storage unit that was covered with stained glass doors. All in all there was nothing unusual or special about the place, except for the disorienting shade of blue that lit the water around her. The light seemed to be filtering in from various windows in the room.

A pair of ink-drop black eyes suddenly appeared in her line of sight and she started. Unfortunately, she couldn’t recoil and flee as her reflexes demanded, due to her injuries. The merman before her didn’t seem threatening, though, he had a serene face of pure white slick-looking skin that bled into a dark-gray from his temples on to his head. At first sight it seemed his hair was cropped close to his skull, but at a second look she recognized the texture on his head as something similar to shark's hide. 

_Oh! So this must be what legends described as a Selachimorphians, or more commonly: the Mer-Sharks_. A shy secluded race of Merfolk, it is said that they were a carnivorous race of berserkers who were often unpredictable and prone to fits of aggression and violence. As a result they were often feared and hated by other races and their presence scarcely tolerated anywhere outside their own realm, thus the mer-sharks retreated somewhere to the deep-wild of uncharted caverns –and not scale or hide of them ever seen since. Bulma continued to watch the merman warily, who for a moment seemed as startled by her as she was by him. He quickly gained possession of his wits, though, and offered her what seemed to be a kind smile while a few triangles of sharp and serrated teeth poked higgledy-piggledy out from partially parted full-lips.

‘You’re awake.’ He finally said and Bulma nodded dazedly, still staring at his the layers of razor sharp teeth, an uneasy feeling running down her spine.

‘Where am I?’ She offered hesitantly.

He remained quiet for a while, contemplative, before answering: ‘Where do _you_ think you are?’ 

Bulma frowned, feeling the tell-tale spark of annoyance at his evasiveness.

‘Well, if I knew where I was, surely I wouldn’t have asked.’ She replied petulantly. His smile hinted at amusement when he answered:

‘Ah, well –surely you must have an idea of your current location, unless you were wandering the Sharks Den with no particular destination in mind.’ This time, his tone held a subtle teasing undertone which the feisty mermaid did not appreciate at all.

‘Look here, Buddy, I’m on a very important mission and I don’t have time for mind games. Is this the Reef?’ she asked, taking a chance.

‘Yes’ he answered plainly.

‘How did I get here?’

‘One of our hunter-gatherers heard the explosion you caused in the Den and found you unconscious and wounded when he went to investigate. Honestly, I didn’t see the point in him bringing you back here, as you were so severely wounded, I really didn’t think you’d survive.’

There was awe in his thoughts and in his facial expression, the latter so clear in the brightness of the water that for a moment Bulma felt a sense of surrealism as she watched him. It passed as quickly as it came, her senses adjusting once again to her new surroundings. Bulma considered his words and grinned wryly. Her naturally higher power-level had many advantages that still left even her closest civilian companions reeling. Her extra reserve of energy allowed not only for quick healing, but also the ability to infuse her muscles with said energy, making it so dense not even a spear could pierce her skin, and to accomplish short bursts of super-speed. Yes, she understood perfectly what this gentle-looking merman might feel, any normal Mer would have been long dead after a shark attack as severe as the one she was currently recuperating from.

‘So, why have you come to this place?’ the merman spoke again, startling her from her private thoughts.

Bulma prepared herself for another round of deception when suddenly, an unholy screech echoed through the room, so loud it seemed to shake the walls and the glass of one of the windows cracked. Heart hammering, Bulma turned her questioning gaze at her caretaker only to find that his face was almost deathly pale as her own must have been.

‘What was that?’ she asked shakily, her brain already supplying various answers. The merman before her was quiet in contemplation, his thought heavily guarded. He seemed to not have heard her or else chose to ignore her for he spun about, his vertical tailfin swishing side to side rapidly as he exited without answering her. Frustrated and tired, Bulma had nothing to do but fall back into a fitful sleep, waking momentarily upon any sudden noises and movement in her immediate vicinity, always to experience the pain that accompanied the reflexive reaching for her missing trident. She didn’t know how long they left her for, but observed the water slowly darkening to deep blue-black –a strange phenomenon that she could recall, from her lessons, was caused by sunlight filtering into the ocean. The light was bright during the day and obscured by the moon during the night. The evidence of being so close to the surface caused a nagging sensation in the pit of her belly and made her anxious to hurry along on her journey. Whether she would be pressing on or going back was another internal debate that also seemed to have no conclusion. Some part of her had already supplied a very probable answer to what that Neptune awful screech was earlier. Seeing as she was currently in the Reef among mers who worshipped a legendary water-dragon, it would stand to reason that a sound like that must have come from said resident dragon: one not-so-mythical Imoogi. Common sense thus argued against going forward –listing being eaten as a very good incentive not to head for the surface. The council may be perverse, manipulative slime balls in her opinion, but they were still the devils she knew. On the other hand, plain obstinacy and that Neptune-forsaken inexplicable ‘pull’ urged her to push on and finish her mission, reminding her that going back would be just as dangerous as going forward, for surely the Eelians would not simply let her leave their territory if she popped back out of the Redemption’s Pass, and not to mention that she might still be eaten -by Sharks, if she were to head back. Damned either way was the inconclusive conclusion... Considering the pros, she thought, absolute freedom and the joy of discovering new horizons were pitted against idea of returning to take the throne –if it were indeed still required of her –and telling the power-hungry worms in the Council exactly where they can shove their royal breeding law, and so doing, end the age of meek, weak-willed queens once and for all. Both ideas had merit and deciding just made her head hurt along with her wounds. It would be better, she finally concluded, to think again of these things after she was healed enough to travel. This time she dozed off to a more restful sleep.

She woke up again, started out of a dreamless sleep by that same hair-raising cry. _By Neptune, that’s annoying_ , was her first coherent thought. Her mind was sluggish and it took a while for her to register the sensation of a gentle touch on her wounded side. Unfortunately with the return of her senses came the return of pain as well and she grit her teeth as the burning throb in her side made itself known. The mer-shark she had met earlier was carefully rewrapping her wound with more seaweed lathered with something pungent and herbal. He was also talking to her, but her wits were slower to return than her physical senses.

‘...else you would have been torn apart. From the look of this wound you have been vigorously shaken and if not for that armor you would have long since been devoured.’ she heard him say when she finally managed to focus on the content of his thoughts. Still quite befuddled, she neglected to shield her private thoughts properly while trying to contemplate the frustration she somehow managed to sense in the Imoogi’s cry and was therefore momentarily confused when her caretaker’s head suddenly snapped up to stare at her wide-eyed.

‘How are you able to identify the Imoogi?’

Bulma slammed down her mental barriers as soon as she realised her mistake and considered her caretaker warily. His hands had stalled in their ministrations and he was looking at her with a puzzled frown. Suddenly he relaxed and continued wrapping. Bulma remained silent as she watched him. Her mind still felt sluggish and she guessed that she must have been given an anaesthetic of some sort and that it affected her usually effortless telepathic control. 

‘I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you know of our Realm Guardian. You must have made some conscious effort to get to this place and since you know of its existence _and_ location...’ he trailed off, seemingly lost in his own thoughts again, while his hands continued working: round and round he wound the bandages.

‘You must really be someone special to have made the journey alone, and to have come so far,’ he spoke again, ‘which pathway did you enter the Den from?’

After judging the question to be harmless, Bulma decided to answer honestly: 

‘The Eelians’ Redemption Pass’

His hands froze again momentarily, before continuing once more.

‘I gather you attempted the Pass as an aspiring warrior, rather than a suicidal mermaid. In any case, your presence here would be accidental.’ He was attempting to sound conversational, but Bulma could sense the underlying tension in his thoughts. He obviously wasn’t as proficient in shielding the emotional undercurrents of his thought. Something in his words caught her attention though,

‘Wasn’t it only Eelian warriors who attempted the gauntlet of the Pass, though? I am clearly no Eelian –or have you never seen one? I’ve never seen a Selachimorphian myself so I would not hold the mistake against you.’

He turned toward her again, confusion clearly evident in his expression. ‘Oh, I know well what you are. As I recall it,’ he answered, ‘the gauntlet was always open to any merraces... perhaps because of the feud between the Eelians and Mammalians it is no longer so.’ He finally finished bandaging and pinned the final piece. Turning toward her again, he paused for a moment to examine his handiwork before continuing with his tale.

‘The gauntlet’s primary purpose was to prove yourself a worthy warrior. At first, you gained great honor and prestige if you completed the mission and returned with the hide of an adult Great White. There was a ranking system too –the bigger the shark, the stronger you were considered to be. Warriors came from all over the realm, from all different species, to prove their superiority. The ones who failed and did not survive were honored as well, remembered for their bravery. For warriors whose honor were somehow compromised, the gauntlet also served as an opportunity to redeem themselves –even if they did not survive, especially if they did not survive... I guess over the years, when the Mammalians and Eelians continued to feud, the Eelians claimed the Pass as their territory –oh, the law still stated that anyone who wanted should be permitted to attempt the gauntlet, no matter his _or her_ species must gain access, but with the conflict and all, not many Mammalians were willing to cross the borders. Besides, there was a new, better way to prove your strength… War’

‘No kingdom with its salt would risk soldiers on such a needless endeavour anyway, not when they needed every last fighting mer at arms for battle.’ Bulma mused, reflecting over this interesting piece of history. ‘You’re quite knowledgeable.’ She stated, genuinely impressed. ‘Do you perhaps know how the Pass became a means of suicide? The means as an execution is understandable.’

‘Well, I should say, if thinking of it logically, that it’s because many who have had their honor smirched, died on this excursion and were hailed as heroes for it. As you have already mentioned, during war time it would be wasteful to send good warriors off to their death when they were needed elsewhere so it stands to reason that the only mers who would attempt the Pass would have been those who had something to prove and nothing to lose: the dishonored. Even if the mer was not a warrior he would still receive an honorary standing among his peers and family, hence ritual suicide.

‘I must say though, it has been a long time since we have hosted a true warrior who has attempted the gauntlet, for judging by your armour and trident, that is what you are. You’re also a strong one, if the charred corpses of six Great Whites are anything to judge by.’

At the mention of her trident, Bulma attempted to sit up, momentarily forgetting her injured side and winced in pain.

‘You have my trident?’ she asked, once her breathing slowed to normal again.

‘Yes’ he was suddenly serious again, and Bulma suddenly felt chilled despite the abnormally warm water she floated in. ‘Up until the first cry of the dragon...’ he started hesitantly, seeming to steel himself before continuing ‘up until that moment, your presence here would have been accepted as the first gauntlet swimmer to attempt the Pass in centuries –nothing more. Yet, the Imoogi has never, in my lifetime and in that of our older men and leaders made itself known... The Realm Guardian has been asleep for as long as I can remember, so you can imagine that the fact that it has awakened right after your arrival is... very puzzling indeed. Our leaders are divided as to the reason. The minority feel it a coincidence, the rest attributed it to your arrival, thinking it fulfilment of a three hundred year old prophecy.’

Bulma could see his attempt to soften the blow, but it still did not prevent her blood from freezing in her veins, while her mind was abuzz with speculation. Bulma was not by nature a superstitious mermaid, but the evidence could no longer be denied. Her mind turned to her twin sister as she considered the probability that the priestess might have been onto something after all. ‘Prophecy’ –yet another one, or maybe the same one –either way it was too big of a coincidence to be considered myths and legends. Add to that the peculiar pull she had been feeling ever since losing that first breast scale, a sort of thirst for adventure that had led her into her current situation... It was becoming more and more likely that some external supernatural power or deity had a hand in the events following her miraculous fertility and was somehow screwing with her life. In hindsight, it was by no means a very rational decision that caused her to leave family and home to explore the unknown, but with every tail stretching between herself and her home she felt an odd shifting in her centre, as if things were putting itself aright –like puzzle pieces slotting into place. The warrior princess was so deep in thought that she did not catch the departure of her caretaker and was thus surprised to find herself once again alone in the room.

* * *

‘Where have you been?’ she asked when the Mer-shark returned a while later, a very appetising scent reached her from the tray he was carrying and her stomach growled embarrassingly.

‘I brought food.’ he announced; amusement clearly visible in the twitching at the corner of his lips. His jet black eyes were still unnerving and so were his teeth, but he radiated no danger and Bulma was content to trust her gut when it came to his character. ‘So, what’s going on?’ she asked, digging into her first decent meal since she left home, ‘you’ve been gone for a while.’

‘Well,’ he started hesitantly, ‘I guess you should know since it involves you.’ He then suddenly swam away, only to return a short while later carrying what appeared to be some sort of tome. Very apprehensively he handed it to her, opened it on a certain page and pointed to a heading which read ‘The Vessle’...

**_The_ _Vessel_**

_The Vessel will Enter upon a Bloody Wave_

_And Stir the One who Sleeps into Wakefulness_

_Bring it unto It who Guards the Wall_

_That One will see the Vessel filled_

_The Split realms will then be Tethered by what it Carries_

_Until the time Comes for the Wall to Crumble_

_And the Severed Bond to be Rejoined_

_Be WARNED, however_

_Of the Metal Ones_

_Who eat the Land with jaws of Fire and Light_

_If the Metal Ones Devour the Land_

_The Wall Will Be Reinforced_

_That which was Inside the Vessel will Fail_

_And the Tether will Snap_

_And the Dragon will Sleep_

_And the Land and Sea will Forever_

_Be Separate._

‘You know,’ Bulma said, heart racing, ‘our people also have a prophecy...’

‘I know.’ the mer-shark interrupted. ‘It is currently under discussion by our older men.’

‘Wait – ’ with that Bulma attempted to rise again, wounds momentarily forgotten only to receive a painful reminder of their existence before settling back down, ‘Hold up’ she tried again, ‘how did you know about our prophecy?’

‘It was on your person, on a piece of scroll. The top part of it was ruined when the Sharks attacked you, but two lines of your prophecy were of some interest to several members of our governing committee.’

‘I don’t understand –the documentation I carried was that of the Imoogi and a map to this place.’

He suddenly produced a limp piece of writing scroll that looked a bit worse for wear – a large chunk of it was missing and almost the whole page was completely blood-stained, but Bulma recognised it as the page she tore out of the Queen’s History Book. The page he was holding was the one that had the information of the Imoogi, but as he flipped it around and showed her what was at the back, Bulma couldn’t believe that she missed it: their People’s Prophecy. Bulma took the page with shaky fingers and read:

… **barren trident she brings back**

**The One who slumbers again must stir**

**For the royal challenge to occur**

**In battle, Grand: the victory –**

**Unites all of land and sea.**

**A golden crown he will wear –**

**The brown-tailed...**

The top and bottom parts of the page were torn and stained so that the script was unrecognizable, but only a fool would not have been able to make the connection between the two prophecies, with what was legible. 

‘What does this mean?’ she asks, heart hammering.

‘We think that… your prophecy also speaks of the awakening of the Imoogi when it refers to the one who Slumbers and it also has the unification of the Land and Sea in common.’ He answered.

‘I get that! What I meant was –what does this mean for me?’

‘Well –given the evidence, it has been decided that you are the Vessel which our prophecy speaks of. Your prophecy also indicates you as a means to uniting the two realms –ocean and land.’

‘It can’t be me!’ Bulma’s denial seemed pointless, even to her. Evidence is evidence.

‘You did enter this place in a cloud of your own blood,’ he pointed out reasonably, ‘and then the Imoogi awakened. It can’t get more obvious than that.’

‘Shut up’ she said, but there was no heat to her sentiments.

 _Well, Bulma_ , she thought privately, _this is one prophecy you can’t wriggle out of_. ‘Okay, so I’m the Vessel.’ she resigned, ‘what happens now?’

‘We proceed according to the prophecy’s instructions –we bring you to the Imoogi’

‘What?’ she exclaimed, sitting up in the process –again forgetting her injuries and yelped in pain. She lay back down, waiting for the dizzying pain to recede with clenched teeth. ‘Are you insane?’ she started ranting again, careful, this time not to move too much. ‘How will feeding me to a sea dragon result in anything but my being eaten?’

‘We’re not _feeding_ you to the Imoogi.’ He stated, a hint of exasperation in his tone. ‘We’re taking you to be... uhm, filled.’

‘Are you sure you’re not taking me to _fill_ the sea serpent? What does that even mean?’

‘I… uhm, am not sure.’

‘Well guess what bud, I am not going to be anyone’s sacrificial virgin –you’re going to have to kill me first!’

‘Do not be obtuse girl, the sacred serpent will not eat you.’ His exasperation was starting to hint at annoyance.

‘Says you! No –I’m not doing it!’ 

He remained silent for a while and Bulma watched his amicable expression turn stoic and cold.

‘You act as if you have a choice.’ And just like that, it seemed the water temperature dropped by several degrees. Bulma suppressed a shudder at his tone, made worse by the manner in which he seemed to be suddenly more capable of eating her than the Imoogi.

Despite all her efforts to, which in Bulma’s state was limited to cursing and wriggling in her binds, there was no escaping from her current predicament: chained to a stalagmite at the entrance of a Blue whale sized cavern. 

She’d woken up in this bound state… again. Her body felt weak and sluggish. Drugs, she deduced, administered through her last meal: that god-damned tuna wrap. She should have known not to trust that sly shark bastard. 

Bulma had already stopped keeping track of time. Her voice had long since stopped working. Her obscenities fell on deaf ears anyway, drowned out by the chanting of the Reef mers schooling around her. Looking at her now, slumped over and silent one would think she’d accepted defeat and submitted herself to her fate. That person would only have to look into her eyes to realise his mistake. There was a fire burning inside Bulma. Fueled by the steadily increasing frequency and volume of the Imoogi’s cries. Some idiot had put her armor back on, repaired all the tears the shark teeth made in it, and clipped her trident to the holster on her back. All was not lost for the blue haired princess, she still had a chance at survival. So she rested, preserving her energy, because with Neptune as her witness she was not ending up inside a dragon’s belly today. Not after coming so far.

The chanting of the Reef merpeople were increasing in volume with the Imoogi’s cries, growing more frantic. From inside the cavern, the Imoogi roared, the sound so close it seemed the dragon was almost upon her. Bulma stiffened and faced the opening, staring intently into the blackness before her, while the chanting around her reached a crescendo. Then, from the darkness a glimmer of blue appeared, slowly gliding from side to side until it formed two glowing blue orbs, which soon became the illuminated silhouette of the legendary Imoogi. Bulma, along with every mer at the entrance of the Serpent’s Pass stared, transfixed as the giant ocean Guardian made itself known.

It looked unlike any sea creature Bulma had ever seen. It’s eyes were situated in the front of its head, like a mer’s, but it had an elongated snout that made its head seem slightly triangular. It wore a sneer from which a row of massive razor sharp teeth were neatly displayed. Above its eyes the crown of its head lengthened upward into two horns that branched out like coral stumps and besides its nostrils two tentacles adorned its face like whiskers. More tentacles exploded out from beside its face like a mane drifting limply in the currents. Its long body snaked forward and in twisted loops seemed to stretch on forever. It had two pectoral fins which seemed strangely small for an animal so massive and a dorsal fin running the length of it back all the way to its tail -Bulma assumed this because she couldn’t find its end in all the coils its body made.

The chanting around her had long since died down as everyone watched in awe as the majestic creature started moving its serpent-like body in a hypnotic dance. At first glance its body seemed completely black until movement brought attention to the iridescent dark blue scales shimmering all over the length of it body.

The dragon stared at Bulma and opened its mouth wide until it seemed the creature was more likely to inhale her than to eat her. The legend of the creature paled in comparison to the real deal, Bulma thought. It was monstrous as it was beautiful and its sheer size made Bulma slump in defeat, realising how insignificant she truly was.

As the warrior princess contemplated the last few days and the decisions that lead her to her demise at that exact moment, something magical happened.

Bulma’s weak and lethargic body became energised. She looked up, uncomprehending at the dragon’s dancing form and slowly started to understand that the majestic creature meant her no harm after all. As Bulma’s body was filled with power, she yanked on the chains that bound her, breaking them. She unclipped and extended her trident, feeling infinitely more secure with the power object back in her webbed hands and then made a dash for the tangle of coils. Her attempts to weave herself through to the other side of the writhing flesh was foiled. The Imoogi, it seemed had a different direction for her in mind for it wound its body around her, closing any openings she could have slipped through until its form resembled a sort of tunnel leading her further into the cavern known as the Serpent's Pass. Seeing no other choice, Bulma started the long swim through. The Pass led her into deeper waters again, and the natural light of the Reef dissipated once more.

On and on she went for what seemed like ages, never faltering. Never tiring, the Imoogi seemed to supply her with the energy she needed to continue. After a while, their direction changed and they started moving towards the surface again. The drag on her body lessened as the water pressure around her decreased. She could swim more freely without the help of her makeshift power supply. The cave abruptly ended and Bulma found herself in the open ocean for the first time. As they came closer to surface, her own luminescence became redundant. Pale white light lit up the ocean. Its source, a white glowing orb whose size and radiance increased the closer they got to the surface: the moon.

She breached the surface with a mighty tail swish. The first touch of air on her scales was cold and fresh and exhilarating. For a moment, she felt the freedom of complete weightlessness. Then gravity came crashing down on her and she fell back to the water with an ungraceful splash. When she popped back up, it was only her head and shoulders she managed to keep above water with the rhythmic waving of her flukes. It was at that moment that the dragon breached with a giant arc, roaring loudly in what Bulma felt was triumph before diving once again into the dark depths of the ocean.

The dazzled mermaid then floated on the surface, observing the night sky intently, recalling all her lessons about the surface world and comparing the reality to what she had imagined. _Incomparable_ she thought. New horizons awaited the warrior princess and it was time to face her destiny. That piece of land she noted drifting in her peripheral seemed as good a place to start as any.

* * *

Vegeta stood over the still form of the beautiful fish-tailed-woman. Well, at the moment she seemed to be _all_ woman. An hour earlier he found himself strangely entranced as he watched her drag herself onto the beach and hack up a lung full of water before collapsing; her blue tail and body-armor shining brightly as moonlight reflected off it. He would have pegged her for dead if it wasn’t for the fact that he could still sense her ki pulsing strong and vibrantly. It left him feeling strangely relieved, but the Saiyan Prince viciously squashed the foreign feeling the moment it surfaced and dismissed the unconscious half-woman with a grunt of indifference before returning to his training… only to find himself dragged grudgingly back, by his own curiosity, to the sight at which the woman’s unconscious body rested. It seemed, in his absence the woman’s fish-tail had disappeared, replaced with shapely porcelain legs that now floated gently within the waves of the outgoing tide, and a not entirely unpleasant shiver went down his spine at the sight. On the side of her exposed leg, he could make out what seemed to be faintly glowing markings. The markings looked embossed into her skin, making it bulge slightly like scars or brandings and formed an intricate pattern of swirls and spirals. It stretched from her hip to her ankle and his fingers itched to trace them. Her upper body was dressed in armor that covered her chest, abdomen and shoulders. Under the armor she wore what seemed to be a mesh of finely woven silver metal. It clung to her arms and covered her lower body until mid-thigh. What an unusual sight, he thought. His eyes finally found her face, slightly obscured by her long teal tresses. 

Before he realized what he was doing, bent down and gently pushed a strand of teal hair out of her face.

 _Gods, but she’s gorgeous_ , he thought. Her skin was petal-soft, the sensation sending a wave of heat flaring through his body and he wondered if her skin was this soft all over. Vegeta retracted his wayward hand as if her skin had burnt it, chastising himself for his foolish display of sentimentality.

He stood up again and started pacing restlessly; contemplating the uncharacteristic urges the strange woman inspired in him.

‘Snap out of it, you fool!’ he rebuked. ‘This is no time to be acting like a moonstruck juvenile during mating season… and over a damned fish!’ He froze then, and looked up into the night. Sure enough: there the full moon hung, heavy and clawing with its pervasive illumination.

‘Well,’ he thought scathingly, ‘that explains it… Stupid moon, making me think I’m going all soft in the head.’ He then looked at the half-naked woman again, and found her wakeful eyes staring warily at him. Midnight-sky black locked with ocean-deep blue and he found himself unable to avert his eyes. Unthinking, he stepped forward, but froze again at the sudden appearance of her trident. He would be amused that she thought the weapon threateningly pointed at him could actually hurt him. Instead, her ability to distract him so thoroughly, that he missed her grabbing the weapon in the first place, infuriated him to no end. He then glanced accusingly at the moon again before chuckling scornfully. From his peripheral view he caught the woman trying to manoeuvre herself away from him and frowned. She obviously feared him –and rightfully so. He should have been thrilled that he could once again intimidate someone using only his demeanour, yet strangely he only felt disappointment. If he was being honest with himself he could admit that he expected her to show the same amount of ferocity she did when facing that giant sea-lizard. Seems he had overestimated this creature –she isn’t worth his notice after all. With that thought in mind, the Saiyan Prince scoffed, offering one last disdainful glance at the slinking woman before turning on his heel and walking away.

* * *

Bulma released a relieved sigh when she was sure the two-legged creature was far enough away, then grabbed her throat in surprise when she realized that she was breathing through it. Her hand skimmed down to her ribcage where her gills were located and searched frantically for the splits in her skin. She found nothing. All the while her chest was rising and falling rapidly with the absence of water. _Was this what they called air?_ She thought. _Why did it feel so… empty?_ With jerky movements she attempted to rise and test out her latest acquisition: her very own pair of legs. Seems there truly was something to those childhood stories. Not that she ever had any doubt, but one can hardly get ahead in life without cold hard facts to back up your gut-feelings. When she first dragged herself ashore, she immediately found that her flexing tail would get her nowhere. The only way to move forward was displacing the sand beneath her with her hands. It was an interesting discovery to say the least. Also, now that she’d seen how the dark-haired man manoeuvred his legs to move, she had a pretty good idea what to do with her own.

Slowly, little by little, she managed to make her way forward on wobbly legs, trusted trident in hand, ready for her to lean on whenever her knees shook too much to keep her balanced.

She did it. She was free. She was on land, walking on two legs and, even though she felt a tad unsteady, she was immensely pleased with herself.


	6. Landlegs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma explores her new surroundings, encountering Vegeta on multiple occasions.  
> Things between them become... interesting

Bulma spent the next few days exploring the island, every sight and experience and sensation was fascinating and new. Like the heaviness of her limbs when she trekked through the dense foliage of the jungle and the brush of the wind through her hair when she stood atop the highest of cliffs; the warmth of the sun on her skin and **color** –she would never have guessed that her world could have consisted of so many hues –so much brightness and vibrancy. Sounds too: it was so much fun to imitate the diverse sounds of the jungle around her with her mouth: growls and hisses, chirping and tweeting. In her observations she noted that sound was a communications tool to the majority of the creatures around her, much like it is for the ocean mammals. There was danger as well: a beautiful creature –its furry coat was bright like magma with black stripes running through it. It stalked the jungle in a lazy unhurried gait, keeping its inner ferocity tightly leashed until the time came for its hunt. Serpents, long and scaly, and from what she’d seen them do to their prey, poisonous. These she avoided like the plague.

She also happened across the soul sentient inhabitant of the island a couple of times. The man with the pointy hair, she’d dubbed him. He’d always pause a moment when she approached, his back turned to her, never turning his head to verify her location or acknowledge her presence. Then he would continue with what he had been busy with before she came upon him. Paying her no attention even though he knew she was there –watching him. Of all the peculiar land creatures, he was the most fascinating to Bulma.

The first time she encountered him, not counting the evening after her transformation, she was walking around the island along the beach. She came upon an area so horribly scorched; it seemed like someone had taken a bucket of black and poured it on the landscape. The ground was pockmarked with pits and fissures and all that remained of the once beautiful greenery was blackened stumps and broken down beams strewn everywhere. A lesser mermaid would have taken one look at the careless destruction, concluded that it must have been caused by someone –thing abnormally strong, immediately turned tail and retreated. Bulma, however, was no lesser anything, and thus proceeded without a second thought, as per usual, favoring adventure rather than self-preservation.

With every step, Bulma clenched her teeth in frustration. In the water, she had been the epitome of stealth... On land her clumsy unpracticed feet seemed to find every dry twig to crack and loose stone to disturb. There was no doubt in her mind that her approach would be heard long before she appeared. 

Even though it was evening, it was light enough to see three tails ahead of her on the barren landscape. The phenomenon Bulma could identify as the moon was round –not completely full –but only a few days on its waning cycle. The realization had caused her to stall, watching the moon with quiet consideration. She recalled the tutelage she had received as a daughter of the queen. From a young age onwards, Bulma had been taught all that was known about her planet: things in the ocean and on land. She knew of the moon and the sun and the stars and the air long before she could see and experience it herself. To see all those elements in real time and not in a book was immensely satisfying. Continuing her trek she pondered the knowledge that the Merfolk seemed to have regarding what lay above the sea. She knew, from history, that it was not always so that the Merfolk were forbidden from surfacing. There was a time when her people and the humans could interact freely with one another. She tried to imagine living in such a time. She was sure it had been wonderful. 

So lost the mermaid had become in her own thoughts that she almost missed it when she rounded a corner and found herself in another scorched clearing, with the pointy-haired man standing right at its center.

She froze, her mouth popping open to form a perfect ‘o’. Her first instinct was flight, but still struggling to overcome her surprise, she was a little slow to react. Even when her raging thoughts had calmed enough to move her to action, she found herself uncharacteristically rooted in her place by the intensity of his scowling stare.

The way his eyes burned into her own made her want to shrink back in fear, forgetting that she was ever a brave and skilled warrior. Black, cold and completely hypnotic –like the eyes of the Shark who held her locked in its jaws not so long ago. Yet, at the same time she felt like she could melt –swim through the fire she saw raging behind their icy exterior. She shuddered. Never had anyone’s gaze evoked such confusing and conflicting emotions within her... it was irritating –infuriating even –and as soon as the familiar emotion surfaced within her she grabbed for it and held it tight. Anger she understood. Anger she knew how to react to. She was just about to give him a piece of her mind for violating her so thoroughly with his eyes, when his eyes suddenly broke from her own. The spell broke as well and her anger dissipated, replaced by a more rational feeling: trepidation. She watched, nervously as his eyes skimmed over her seemingly human form, suddenly feeling self aware as he took his sweet time perusing her. She glanced down herself to consider her attire: she had long since ditched her body armor in favor of running around in her less bulky chain-mail. The metal body suit was form fitting from the collar to her hips, encasing her arms up to her wrist and flaring out ever so slightly until mid-thigh. She wandered idly, if she was dressed immodestly… the material was a bit sheer, after all. Bulma was no fool, she had noticed that a new pair of legs weren’t the only thing she acquired at her transformation. The breeding mermaids back home had breast-covers to conceal their scale-less chests. Her own seemed appropriately concealed behind the only tini-tiny-bit transparent metal-mesh she wore. She dared another glance at the man, trying to gauge his reaction to her state of dress and whether she needed to be embarrassed or not; only to find the man had turned his back on her and was doing something that looked a little like stretching.

Bulma seethed, he was completely ignoring her now, as if she were just some harmless guppy. Her scorn was soon turned to surprise when she saw him throw a flurry of rapid punches into the air, followed by a barely visible snap of his one leg. She couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement at the realization that the man before her was definitely no ordinary human. His fluid and precise movements left an impression that she was intimately familiar. Bulma watched, entranced as he shifted gracefully from one stance to another, with various attack-movements in between. His style suggested a preference of fast brutality over watertight defense. She was fascinated by the way he maneuvered his legs and feet in fast sweeps and snaps to carry out attacks, yet stayed perfectly balanced in his stances. They seemed like they could be of much more use in a battle than her tail could ever be.

Without much awareness of what she was doing, Bulma found herself perched on one of the fallen tree-trunks, watching how each blow would be carried through against an imaginary opponent, with rapt attention and a building fascination in her belly.

Since that time she had been regularly visiting his training ground, carefully scrutinizing his every move.

* * *

The woman was visiting again, he noted, pausing to mark her location as she took up space at the end of his training domain. Over the course of three weeks she had come to watch his shadow sparring sessions at least twice a week. Her presence, in the beginning was somewhat of an annoyance to Vegeta, her silence unnerving. He quickly got past that however, when he realized that she really had no other agenda than to observe him. He had never encountered another being like her on this planet, and from the curious look on her face he would likely guess the same about her. It eased his natural suspicion and her presence has since begun to have a soothing effect on the lonely Saiyan prince. She made him feel valued, respected even when she observed him so intently, with such obvious and unbeguiled awe. Her eyes, whenever he managed to catch them, are intelligent and determined. Against his better judgement, he became curious again. Now, he watches her in return. Sometimes she’s aware of his presence. Sometimes she is not.

She never eats anything the land has to offer, but swims out every morning and evening for an hour, he assumes she finds her sustenance there. When she’s not in the ocean, she explores the island’s diverse wildlife, steering well clear of most of the threatening species and utilizing her trident when danger can not be avoided. Something that Vegeta found quite intriguing, is her habit of lingering at the berry bushes. Picking and scenting them as if she would eat them, especially the ones he recognized as strawberries, from the dessert dishes the Briefs woman sometimes fed him. Then she would drop them on the ground again, uneaten. He had even attempted to speak to her once, some scathing remark that would probably have set her eyes alight with indignation if he understood, only realizing belatedly that she probably wouldn’t be familiar with the common earth language.

Something strange occurred that day: a prickly sensation at the back of his skull. She seemed shocked at first, at his attempt to communicate with her, but a concentrated look at once appeared on her face and then suddenly he was not alone in his own mind anymore.

His travels through the universe had brought him into contact with a few telepathic races over the years. One of them was capable of mind control, he distinctly remembered, and what a bitch of a headache it was to purge that planet. Vegeta thus made it a point of personal pride to make sure his mental barriers were as strong as his ki barriers. Needless to say breaking into his mind was not a very smart move for the little fish-women because the next moment, he had her by the throat, pinned to a tree.

‘Stay out of my head’ he sneered using the telepathic channel the woman had forced open, to get his message across. Then he dropped her to the ground, careless of her wheezing as he retreated to his training again.

In hindsight, he might have overreacted, however reflexive his lashing out may have been. The woman had disappeared for three days after that incident. Guilt is not an emotion he is overly familiar with and the Saiyan prince was at a loss for how to make it go away. He finally decided to pick some berries and was waiting for an opportunity to offer them to her. He felt her ki return to the island the previous day but up until a few minutes ago, she’s been avoiding him. Now she is back. He wondered why...

She did not sit, as she usually did, on a stump on the far side of the clearing, but instead stood at its entrance. Her stance was neutral, but she was carrying her trident. This should be interesting, he thought with a rare grin, watching the woman curiously.

* * *

Bulma couldn’t believe she was facing this man again after what he did to her. Their last encounter proved what Bulma had suspected all along. He was stronger than her, having the clear advantage of being a land dweller on land, to her fish out of water scenario. He was also dangerous in that he was unpredictable.

And yet, here she was. Ready to make amends.

Any other day Bulma wouldn’t give two kelps about who the stronger fighter was. An offense like the one he dealt her four moons prior would have warranted immediate retaliation. The problem was however, that One: Land was not her domain and she did not understand the social norms of the two legged creatures; and Two -and more importantly - she got less than she deserved for the stunt she pulled with him. If they were in the ocean and she forced her way into her allies’ mind like that it would have been seen as a gross misuse of power and a violation of trust.

While it is true that he was trying to communicate with her and she had no way of answering, a gentle knock on his mental shields should have been the right way to go about establishing a first link. Granted, she did try that at first, but after the first tap she suddenly recalled that humans were not naturally inclined to receive or project telepathically. So she took a gamble and bypassed his mind’s natural protective barriers. She hoped that he would be unfamiliar enough with telepathic manipulation to overlook the intrusion. It was all for the sake of intelligible communication after all, she reasoned, but breaking down those barriers was not an easy skill to acquire and also not something Bulma could do subtly. And, as the resulting attack on her person had shown, the intrusion was definitely recognized and strongly unappreciated.

Bulma was in the wrong, no matter how she tried to justify it at the time and her honor demanded she make amends. Not only that, Bulma had grown to admire the solitary warrior during the time she spent on the island with him; His dedication to becoming stronger inspired her on a daily basis. What’s more: he had become a sort of companion to her. Bulma had never been a solitary person, she was always surrounded with people: her sisters, her tutors, her soldiers and friends, but for the first time in a long time she found herself without the constant companionship. It made her realize how much she needed her friends and family. They kept her centered. So, even though they never spoke, the pointy haired man alleviated her loneliness a bit. She needed his forgiveness… he was all she had.

He was doing that thing again, Bulma noted. That slow perusal of her person that made her feel both insecure and all melty inside at the same time, his eyes always lingering a moment longer on her legs. Then his eyes flashed to her trident and back to her face again as a mocking smirk appeared on his face.

And just like that, Bulma’s anger flared, all meltiness forgotten - along with intended apology. How is it that he could invoke such tender feelings of companionship one moment and then infuriate her so thoroughly not a moment later, she thought, perplexed as she lowered her stance and shifted her trident into an attack position. She glared at the smug bastard and his grin widened in reply. Bastard. If he thought she was a weakling he had another thing coming, she steamed, flaring her energy around her body to protect herself. His mocking smirk soon became a taunting grin and he raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

This time she was ready for him when he rushed at her. He was still too fast for her to follow all his movements but he must have flipped over her because she detected his landing right behind her and swung her trident around. A loud clang rang in the air as her trident staff met his forearm. He blocked the blow aimed at his jaw. Now they stood, faces inches from one another. His stoic black gaze met her angry cerulean blues for several seconds. Then the corner of his lips tilted up subtly. It was the first time she saw him grin, however small, without derision or conceit. It revealed a humorous side to Bulma’s island companion that quickly dissolved her anger and her heart fluttered with hope and what Bulma finally recognized as fondness.

She… liked him. 

The epiphany made her take a step back. Sheathing her trident, she examined him again. This time, with a different perspective. Now that she had breeding capabilities, it is said she would look at males differently. She recalled one of her older sisters, Mina, saying that fertile mermaids look at males with a mind to mate and that this perspective causes strange urges in a mermaid. Introspectively, it is true that weird things sometimes happen to her body when she watches him. Like the heat in the pit of her belly and the tingles running up her spine. Up until then she always attributed the excitement to battle hunger, triggered by watching him train. It is a very similar feeling, Bulma admitted, but different…

Could she be having mating urges toward this man? 

Her eyes caught his once more, he was watching her with an expectant expression. _It is possible_ she considered. _It may even be reciprocated_. Her eyes then traveled the length of his body, noting his lithe frame. He was wearing some sort of skin tight, black loin covering that started below his navel and sheathed his legs until mid-thigh. Although small, his body was corded with powerful, well defined muscles, from his bulky neck down to thick his calves. The bronze skin of his torso and abdomen glistened with a thin layer of moisture: sweat. 

Bulma had learnt of this phenomenon her first day on the island: this salty fluid one’s body excretes in extreme heat. At first she had thought that she was literally melting, and had fled frantically to the ocean to cool down. This midday swim became a daily occurrence until she discovered the pointy haired warrior’s training grounds for the first time. When she saw the same thing happening to his skin and that no permanent harm resulted from it, Bulma concluded it to be a normal human bodily occurrence and stopped running for cold water every time it happened to her. Only the she finally discovered its purpose: it pleasantly cooled her overheated skin when hit with a breeze of fresh air. A very practical bodily function indeed. 

Therefore it made no sense that staring at a droplet as it trailed down his pectoral muscle, over the ridges of his ripped abdomen and into the band of fabric below his navel invoked in her one of those aforementioned spine tingles and caused heat to pool low in her belly. It was ludicrous that seeing him sweat urges her to try and taste it, if only just a little bit. She knew the taste of salt water. It was more familiar to her than the taste of air … These feelings really made no logical sense to her. She therefore concluded that it must be mating urges after all.

Mystery solved.

Being able to identify why her body was acting so strangely to his presence and proximity put the perplexed mermaid at ease. After all, now that she could identify the problem, the solution was simple. If what her sister said was true, these urges would stop bothering her if she mated with the man. Would he be willing? Bulma knew she was an attractive female in her home world and she wondered if that attractiveness translated in her human form. Was she even ready? Her body had reached sexual maturity years ago, but even then she had never never had any urges before. When Bulma was younger she always attributed it to the fact that she was infertile. Fertile mermaids are said to have… strong sexual appetites, after all. As she grew older she learned that having intercourse is not exclusively for those able to have children… Infertile mermaids often enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh. More freely so since they did not have to worry about accidental pregnancies. She knew of many female soldiers who enjoyed regular trysts. Apparently it took the edge off the stresses of being in life-threatening circumstances… and still, she hadn’t felt a twinge of attraction to any one of her male companions. Even if she did, it would have been heavily frowned upon to pursue such feelings. She was first and foremostly, royalty. She could not sully her bloodline by cavorting with commoners. Now however, she did not have any such restrictions. The social demands of royal life were of little importance to her so far away from home. She was free to do however she pleased now, so if she wanted to mate with the man before her, then why the hell not?

The mechanics of said operation was still vague to the now leg wielding mermaid, but, she assumed that she had all the parts, even though she looked a bit different in her current form. so, it shouldn’t be that difficult.

First things first though, establish a communicative mind link. Which probably sounded crazy after her first attempt to do failed dramatically, but how else is she going to learn about the courtship rituals of these land dwellers if not by proper communication.

* * *

Vegeta’s skull was tingling again.

He had no idea what he was doing. He should have just given her the berries and sent her on her way. She’s distraction with her sparkling eyes and curvy body. Yet, there he stood, locked in place, watching -waiting for her to make her move.

She intrigued him. Her intentions puzzled him and her fiery mood swings entertained him immensely. He considered her weapon, and made no attempt to hide his feelings about her chances against him, mocking her with his eyes. They do not need words, his face says it all. The woman can’t even walk properly, never mind fight. One moment, she’s uncertain, hesitant even and like a switch was flipped, suddenly she’s the fierce warrior he saw that day, leaping out of the water with a dragon in her wake. She takes an offensive stance, as if she actually has a chance. It’s hilarious. She’s bold and he likes it -more than he should. So instead of diffusing the situation by giving her the berry peace offering and getting back to his training, he engages her. He means to toy were her so he phases out. He ends up behind her, but to his surprise, she manages to sense him there. The trident catches him unaware and he blocks instead of evading. They’re face to face. She pants heavily, smelling of fury and frustration and he loves it. He cracks. They do not need words. His face says it all. She sees his weakness and retreats. Dammit.

He should have just given her her fruits. She’s become a distraction, affecting his sound reason with emotional turmoil. He prepares to take his leave, to give the woman her berries and return to his training, but then he catches her looking. Really looking: the sort of appraisal he subjects _her_ to when she’s unaware of his attention. She sees him as a man, he realizes, and suddenly he is hyper aware of her as a woman. And that underneath that metal sheath she parades around in, she wears nothing but her skin. Skin, that he could recall from their first encounter, was as soft as flower petals. His fingers itched to revisit the sensation and he clenched them in tightly formed fists.

What was he doing? He chastised himself. She should not be able to affect his control this way. His body had become this rebellious thing, his mind straying along with it… and damn it that Kami-forsaken tingling in his skull was back again, tempting him to lower his defenses even more. She was probing, he realized, asking instead of bulldozing ahead into his mind like she did last time. Vegeta was torn. Consenting would be very practical in terms of communication, but refusing would keep a much needed barrier between the Saiyan Prince and the temptation she represented to him. However, something told him that rejecting her would not bring an end to the ever increasing frustration he felt in her presence, _that_ can only be relieved by other means. Dare he go there? 

Vegeta afforded her one more once over, weighing the pros against the cons. She was deep under his skin, an annoyance, an itch he couldn’t reach. Taking her body should get her out and get him back to pursuing the one thing on his agenda worth anything to him: achieving the legendary Super Saiyan status and beating that fool Kakarot to a pulp with his own limbs.

Mind made up, Vegeta took a deep breath… and let her in.


	7. Sins of the Mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma and Vegeta have their first conversation.  
> We delve into the history of Bulma's people and the origins of the curse.

‘Thank You’ was the first words she sent to him through their new bond. He nodded curtly, not replying. _Strange_ , she thought. She had expected to receive an influx of unfiltered thoughts ever since he consented to link them telepathically. Like the young ones of her species who needed to be taught proper control by their parents, Bulma was prepared to train him on filtering his thoughts. Silence is what she received instead. Maybe she underestimated his level of basic telepathy, she speculated, and he was hardwired to receive only. Or maybe the humans have since learnt control of their 6th (mental) sense and maybe he just had excellent control. 

‘What is your name?’ she asked, attempting to draw a response.

‘Vegeta’ he sent back, and spoke his name audibly at the same time. His mental voice matched his physical one perfectly and Bulma smiled, pleased at their progress.

“Ve-ge-ta?” Bulma mimicked, trying out the syllables on her own tongue. He nodded again, seemingly pleased as well. Then immediately, he turned around and started his warm up stretches. Bulma was mildly offended that he would go back to ignoring her when they could finally talk to each other and attempted to draw him back into a conversation:

‘My name is Bulma’ she told him. All she received back from him was an audible, nonchalant “Hmm” as he continued in his training routine. To say Bulma was disappointed was an understatement. She had hoped that he would pay a bit more attention to her now that he can ask her anything he wanted. She was almost certain he had never seen one of her kind before, just as she’s never seen a human before. _Wasn’t he in any sense curious as to what she is and where she came from?_ She thought, more than a little miffed. Land people were weird, she concluded before returning to her usual perch, pouting.

Bulma continued observing, already familiar with every move in his battle pattern, which is exactly why she jumped up when he was suddenly alerted by something and paused mid-leg sweep. He swung around abruptly and started a determined march towards her. Confused at his sudden advance, she attempted to take a step backwards, bumping into the tree trunk she’d been using as a seat. Before she could wonder any further, he paused just short of standing on top of her. Then, the strangest thing happened. He proceeded to crouch before her, moving slowly, almost deliberately so. He kept eye contact with her as he did so, all the way down, until his head was level with her lower belly. Adrenaline shot through her veins and set her pulse spiking and she froze, nervously anticipating the next move of his bizarre behavior. His hand reached out and slipped between her slightly parted thighs, through to the other side where the fallen tree-trunk lay. The nerve endings on her skin felt every vibration of the proximity of his arm and she felt the texture of her skin suddenly change, forming little pimples all over. A not entirely unpleasant throbbing started south of her navel, accompanied by what Bulma had previously identified as ‘symptoms of mating urges’. This new one, however, was much more intense than the others. Vegeta, was still crouched in front of her, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. The moment ended too soon, or not soon enough depending on how you look at it. He withdrew his hand and brought along with it a small brown bag. Bulma released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding as he stood up.

Why did it seem as if her lungs couldn’t get enough air all of a sudden? She wondered idly, her eyes fixed on his face. It was currently sporting a roguish grin.

‘Here, Woman.’ he said, his voice in her mind coming as a shock to her overheating system. She felt as if she’d been tased by a baby mereel: all frazzled and sensitive. ‘These are called strawberries, they are fruit ‘ he continued ‘you can eat them.’

Her hand absently took the bag from him, her mind still hung up on what the kelp he just did to her. Bulma was starting to doubt the wisdom of getting too close to these land creatures, who knows what else they’re capable of… _was this normal?_ She thought, resisting the urge to fan herself with her hand.

* * *

Seeing that the woman wasn’t going to respond to his gesture, Vegeta took the bag back from her, opened it and laid it back in her open palm, the ruby fruits peeking out from the folds of fabric. The familiar perfume of them seemed to snapped Bulma out of whatever thought process she seemed to be lingering in. Vegeta’s was quite pleased at the results of his shameless teasing. It seemed that he wasn’t the only one feeling the pull between them. The way her scent suddenly changed at his close proximity confirmed that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. At least, her body did. It was a very satisfying revelation and he stored the information for future reference. She was currently staring at the berries with barely restrained enthusiasm, all thoughts of bodily urges seemingly forgotten. Then she looked at him once more, skeptical.

‘You’re not trying to poison me, are you?’ she asked, but her tone was light, not serious. He decided to break the ice by plucking a berry from the bag and popping it in his mouth. As if this was all the consent she needed, the Woman followed suit with fervor. Ecstasy transformed her features at the taste of the new commodity and suddenly it was Vegeta that was in hot water. This woman was too much, he thought, pained. His mind was running a mile a minute as he imagined that look on her face in a very different situation, or rather, situations. She stuffed another berry in her mouth and groaned with pleasure as it passed those pouty lips. Vegeta had had about all he could take for the day and leaped into the sky before he lost all self-control. His last vision of the the blue-haired woman, on her ass with the brown fabric bag laying off to the side and the remainder of the berries strewn all around, had him chuckling all the way back to his camp. 

* * *

_He flies! By Neptune he just… flies._ ‘Strawberries’ long forgotten, Bulma paced the clearing, her mind as thoroughly boggled as an Eelian’s eyes. She didn’t understand it, not one bit! He defies all the information she had ever been given on the human species. Why in hell did they need legs if they can fly? Can all of them do this, or is her island-dwelling companion the exception to the rule? She needed more intel. She had too many questions and it seemed like Vegeta wasn’t going to return any time soon. 

_The Worm_ , she seethed. How dare he just up and leave like that. She was finally convinced that the man was capable of merman decency - ‘human decency’ -she mentally corrected and then he just had to leave her in the lurch like that -her precious strawberries lying in the dust. She paused to glance regretfully at the abandoned fruits for a moment, maybe she could rinse them off, then looked into the sky and sighed. The moon was high. It was late. She would probably only see him at earliest, the next morning. Dejected, Bulma decided to head back, taking the trail she usually traveled. It was far past the time she usually returned to the ocean as well, opting to sleep there rather than risking the unknown in a dark and dangerous forest. While walking, she smelled something in the air, a strange scent that she had not come across before. Her immediate conclusion was that it was Vegeta. Deviating from her course, she followed her nose. Her eyes noted the location where the scent originated from quite quickly: an orange glow in the sky and puffs of grey cloudy-like substances rising up from the forest in it. As she drew closer she saw a white shiny surface through the foliage of the trees, which later became a dome-like structure that looked completely out of place in its natural setting. In front of this structure sat the man himself. Vegeta’s features were alight in the source of the orange glow: Fire. Another phenomenon that was only possible on land. It's what happens when oxygen burns, she recalled. The closest thing they had to it were the lava pits and magma ores at the earth’s crust on the ocean bed.

He watched her intently as she walked around the fire and planted herself next to him.

‘Good Evening, Vegeta.’ She greeted. He grinned subtly in reply, then reached out his hand. Bulma tensed, unsure if this was another of his teasing games, but to her relief, or maybe disappointment, he simply removed a dry twig from her hair. His amusement at her appearance suddenly made sense: she probably looked like a tree, she thought disgruntled, when a quick investigation produced more twigs out of her windswept hair. It was all his fault with the stunt he pulled on her that afternoon… which reminded her.

‘You can fly.’ she stated. His glance her way was brief, his attention mainly focused on the structure in front of him. A tusked and stout legged animal lay impaled on a rod over the fire. The rod was balanced between some sort of metal frame set up at the sides of the pit the fire stoked in. Vegeta stood up and went to rotate a lever on one side of the structure that turned the animal around. The smell of blood filled the air, and that of roasting flesh. It wasn’t completely unappealing, Bulma admitted.

‘So, besides stating the obvious,’ he said once he sat back down, ‘what brings you this side, Woman? You’re usually long gone this time of the evening.’

‘My name is Bulma’ she reminded.

‘I know that… Woman.’

Bulma frowned, she did not know if he was purposefully antagonizing her or if it was a cultural thing that he didn’t use her name. Nevertheless she reined in her irritation, because being taunted into reacting violently was counterproductive to her agenda. She wanted answers and so her reluctantly civil reply was: ‘I have questions.’ When he didn’t reply, she considered it consent and fired away.

‘How is it possible that you can fly?’

‘I manipulate the energy around me to propel me upwards and keep me there. It’s a fundamental skill for a true warrior. The speed and duration I can attain while airborne directly reflects the power I have. The stronger you are, the more energy you can control.’

Although mildly insulting, Bulma found his explanation very educational. She knew all about energy manipulation, after all, she did it too. Except she needed her trident to channel the energy she controlled. He, however, does it without external tools. _How skilled must he be._..

‘When have humans become so strong?’ she asked in complete awe.

Suddenly, his amiable expression changed, disgust distorting his features.

‘Human?’ he laughed humorlessly ‘Please Woman, do not compare me to the pathetic life forms that inhabit this mudball.’ he sneered. When he didn’t elaborate, Bulma projected her confusion.

‘Not human... What are you, then?’

‘I am Vegeta, the prince of all Saiyans.’ he stated with no little pride.

‘Am I supposed to smell what that is or do you want me to wrench it from behind you mental shields again, because I can do that you know.’ she sassed. This time his sneer was directed at her, but he continued anyway.

‘My people were a warrior race, one of the universe's most accomplished mercenaries… They are all gone now, wiped out by a psychopathic tyrant along with my home planet long ago. I am the last true saiyan left’ His bitterness was projected along with his sentiments and it left a bad taste in her mouth.

‘I am sorry, Vegeta.’ she sympathized. It wasn’t well received.

‘I don’t need your pity, Woman.’ the silence stretched on as she contemplated the implications of his revelation. He was not from this planet. He was… from the stars. The more she learnt of this man who was not a human, the more constricted she felt by the binds of fate. Bulma searched the heavens, her eyes straying to the moon once more. The moon was nearly as full as it had been the first time she surfaced, which meant she’s been away from home almost a full moon cycle. Bulma noted this duration for her internal calendar. In the ocean their time cycles were variable, depending on your vocation, unlike the land people who had a clear distinction between day and night. Even though her people marked time differently, they still commemorated the first Mammalian Queen’s Coronation day every meryear. Queen, Aquellé was the first mer who had gained the ability to transform into a human when on land. Legend had it that she made a deal with Neptune that, should he grant her legs and lungs so that she could walk on land to find her true love, she would sacrifice her firstborn son to him in return. She received her wish and was united with her love. Only for a short while however, because he spurned her love and she returned, grief-stricken, to her own domain. 

Scorned, the heartbroken mermaid refused Neptune his due when the time came to collect. In return he cursed her bloodline so that it can no longer bear males. That is, until ‘the strongest one’ puts a male heir on the throne, according to their prophecy. This was the story told to all princesses at a young age. The descendants of Aquellé inherited her ability to transform on land and Aquellé’s son, the last King of their race and Aquellé first and only child, had many daughters by many different concubines. The Council chose the strongest of the royal Breeding daughters to sit on the throne, offering their own sons as the potential fathers for the next male heir, but no matter how many children the queen birthed, not one of them was a son, and so it became a tradition that carried on over the generations, each queen becoming less the powerful monarch and more of a puppet playing to the Council’s whims. The Council was essentially making Aquellé’s descendants pay for the foolish decisions she had made, and its tragic consequences. It was despicable… and yet, they celebrate her coronation every year. As a reminder, according to their doctrine, to never refuse the god's their due. And in faith: that the strongest one shall soon appear to end the scourge on the royal bloodline and provide her people with the King that was promised.

Still, Bulma couldn’t help wondering about that prophecy. What if the Council had it wrong all along. If she were indeed the mermaid that would return a male heir to their throne, then she probably didn’t have to mate with ten mermen to give birth to a son. If their next King would be heir to land and sea, as the prophecy says, she needed a land dweller to father him… maybe that land dweller was Vegeta. The thought suddenly chafed. She didn’t like the fact that her life may well have been planned out for her by some vindictive deity. It made her doubt if the feelings she had for him were real or if she were being manipulated. Nevertheless, real or not, he was all she had in terms of companionship and if she wanted her sanity to remain intact she needed to interact with him on some level. Her partner was still staring broodingly at the fire. She decided a distraction was in order.

‘My name is Bulma of house Arowana, seventh daughter of Morgana of house Arowana, queen of the Mammalian merrealm. Up until before my journey to the surface, I was the Captain of her Royal Guard, and before that, when we were still at war with the Eelian merclan, I was General of her army... And all of that means nothing now that I have a functional womb, capable of bearing what all my people hope to be the next King of our realm.’

Curiosity piqued, he returned to her side and she proceeded to tell him the rest of her story while he silently prepared his dinner. It was the first time she had the time to process the series of events leading up to her current predicament. It felt good to have someone to unload on and when she was finished, he handed her a piece of roasted -if a bit charred -meat. It was surprisingly good. 

As both parties stared reflectively into the fire, content in each other’s company, another onlooker was observing with keen eyes…

* * *

“Things are progressing well, Mr. Popo”

“Yes Kami, I see. It is surprising to see them so civil with one another, what with the both of them being such hotheads. To be quite honest Kami, If it weren’t for the fact that the purple haired boy showed up from the future and identified Vegeta as his father, I’d have that thought you might be sending Bulma to her death when you had the Imoogi escort her to that island.”

“Ah, the Imoogi -I almost forgot that’s what the natives call Umishenron nowadays. Yes well, I’m simply doing my part to ensure the survival of the planet’s population, be it under the ocean or above. Besides, it's about time the tragedies of the past be set right.”

“To what tragedy are you referring Kami-sama?”

“That of Bulma’s ancestors, Aquellé and Han... I forget you weren’t with me at that time, Popo. You know, Bulma and Vegeta actually reminds me a little bit of them. Aquellé had the same thirst of adventure and if she felt they weren’t fair, the same complete disregard for the rules of society. Prince Han may have been a bit more noble than Vegeta, but when it came to pride and pigheadedness -well, those two might have been two peas in the same pod as the humans say. I just hope Vegeta treats Bulma better than Han did Aquellé. Anyway, let me tell you their story -Bulma’s People’s version is not quite accurate I’m afraid.

You see, it all started when a young mermaid princess decided to use the dragonballs to wish for legs.

Aquellé was a curious child -always out and about and getting into places and things she wasn’t supposed to. She gave her poor widowed father many gray hairs. She was an only child, her mother had died shortly after her birth and was thus the only heir to her father’s throne.

As a teenager -this is in meryears though, which are a lot longer than human years, about two and a half if I recall properly -she set her mind to wondering the surface areas. This was before the wars between the different merclans had started. She was warned many times to stay away from places where humans cast their fishing nets and hunted for whales, but being royalty and an only child, doted on and indulged did not help Aquellé sense of obedience at all. This was how she first came into contact with Prince Han. He was on a sinking ship, directing his crew off into the lifeboats. Now, Aquellé was in the habit of collecting souvenirs from wrecked ships, so she waited around to see the outcome. Watching the prince bravely risk his life to make sure all his crew members were safe, she naturally became intrigued. When the prince was hit on the head by a burning beam and fell overboard, Aquellé didn’t think twice about rescuing the drowning hero. She brought him to shore and set him down within a cave upon the beach. There she sat with him until he woke, her shining glow-scales casting a soft green light around them in the dark cave.

The prince eventually woke, more than a bit startled to find himself in the embrace of a mermaid. Aqullé retreated as soon as the prone prince in her arms ceased being quite so prone. Once Han got over his shock however, he beckoned her closer. She hesitantly approached, stopping within arms length of the human. He then slowly reached out and stroked her cheek -his eyes displaying the gratitude that she could not understand from his words. She disappeared then -both parties boyed by the first strains of a crush.

The prince returned to his castle, full of seemingly tall tales he recounted to his bewildered, but relieved family and friends. His accounts of rescuing mermaids were quickly blamed on hallucinations caused by a head injury. He however never forgot his ocean savior and returned every night to the sea shore to try and catch a glimpse of her. Sometimes all he caught was the flash of scales, but mostly he never saw her. Meanwhile, she saw him almost every day. She would watch from her secret hiding place every evening as he stood on the beach. All the while the prince grew more jaded from the ridicule he endured because of his unwavering belief in mermaids, Aquellé’s crush had turned into obsession. After a while, the prince’s visits became less frequent as the responsibilities of the monarchy started weighing him down, one of them was producing the next heir. Aquellé’s obsession became a desperate pursuit of attaining the ability to walk on land. Years went by, Han had by this time married, but his attempts at acquiring a male heir had failed miserably. He only produced daughters. With the birth of each new daughter, whether by his wife or mistresses, the Prince sank more and more into despair. Aquellé’s search for legs however had a more hopeful recourse.

Aquellé had learnt about the magical orbs that summoned a wish granting dragon and set out to obtain them. Her search plateaued though when she acquired all the dragonballs that were entrusted to its guardians in the ocean. In that time, each dragon ball was housed with a chosen guardian and its secret was privy to only the protegé of the Keepers respectively. The clever little mermaid managed to find, by hook or by crook, all three balls that were kept in the allied cities of the different merclans. Then she managed to beguile a young martial artist into finding the rest on land. At that time Roshi was still an apprentice to the Turtle Master who was also one of the Dragonball Keepers on land… and as bad as he is now with the… uhm… feminine species, he was worse in his youth. Unfortunately, Roshi was the only human she could persuade to help her in that one: he had learnt the skill of telepathic communication from his sensei and two: he was a self-serving pervert, to put things bluntly. So, in return for allowing him to use the second wish he was to find the rest of the dragonballs and also to speak the wishes to the dragon for her.”

“-Wait,” Popo interrupted, “How old is Roshi to have been alive at that time?”

“About five centuries if I recall correctly”

Kami paid no heed to the collapsing Popo, simply continued his story as if there were no legs twitching in the air beside him.

“Suffice to say, Roshi used his wish for longevity and Aquellé… well she could finally be reunited with her human prince.

The excited princess couldn’t wait to go to her prince. Luckily she had Roshi word her wish just right that she still be allowed to return to her true form once she submerged in the ocean and filled her lungs with sea water. She thus made no time swimming to Han’s Kingdom. She did however have some problems with communication because humans weren’t naturally inclined to telepathy. She only managed to enter the palace as a mute maidservant, scurrying around until she got the chance to meet up with Han, who was by then no longer a prince but the King.

The Queen was living on her own estate, so it was easy to ignore the fact that he was married and eventually the chance came to reintroduce herself to him. The moment was all she hoped it would be. The two began a torrid love affair -both blind to the persons the other one has become in the years since their first meeting. Nevertheless, no matter how inconvenient the timing, they fell in love and for a while, everything was perfect.

Reality soon came crashing down on the couple when Han’s wife decided to visit her husband. By that time the King’s affair was an open secret to all in the castle and the word had thus managed to reach the Queen at her home. Caught between duty and love -the expectations of his mistress and that of his wife, Han quickly found himself in hot water. Pressured by the need for a legitimate heir, he consented to conceive another child with his wife, expecting Aquellé to understand. He changed his mind when the time came to make good on his word to his wife, but it was too late. By that time Aquellé had also made quite a few enemies in the castle, what with most of the maidservants in the castle coveting her position. One such enemy managed to mislead Aquellé into believing that she had been cast away by her love, who had returned to his wife. The heartbroken mermaid left. She returned home with Han’s child in her belly: a son who had his father’s affliction. Han’s son took his mother’s oceanic throne after her and became its last King to date, only females were born to the throne after that.

Aquellé and Han never saw each other again. 

The reckless actions of Aquellé had many painful consequences. The subjects loyal to Han’s jealous Queen followed her orders to attempt eradicate merkind from the oceans. This sparked an all out war between humans and mers. The other merclans blamed Aquellé for the sudden violence against their species and also sought justice for her crimes of theft against their cities, for they eventually found out what happened to their missing dragonballs. It was a period of great bloodshed. If the humans were not killing mers, they were killing each other.

I had to do something…

I decided to split Shenron in two and commissioned Umishenron to separate the two realms and guard the way between them. The dragonballs never entered the merrealm again, the seven balls now only scatter onto the earthy regions of the planet and summoned Tochishenron, who could only grant one wish. This split greatly reduced Shenron’s power but it provided some, if only a little relief to the warring, so it was worth it. The bad blood remained between the different merraces however, but their battles are skirmishes compared to the bloodbath Aquellé and Han created.”

“But Kami, why did you leave a path to the surface world? Surely you could have kept them completely separate, and then Shenron would not need to be split.”

“Because of my vision, Popo. I foresaw the time in which the ocean people would need to join with the earth’s forces to save the planet. The birth of Trunks is instrumental to this cause. Unfortunately my prophecies weren’t enough warning the first time round, because the androids still prevailed in Future Trunk’s timeline. Maybe the earth’s special forces will fair better this time around.”

“Maybe…” Popo agreed, and the two settled back into their observation of events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Names and their meaning for interest' sake:
> 
> **Morgana** (Bulma’s mother) means ‘dweller of the sea’ in welsh  
>  **Arowana** is a freshwater fish that can obtain oxygen from the air (air breather). It also has very pretty scales in a variety of colors  
>  **Umi** (As in Umishenron) means 'ocean' in Japanese  
>  **Toschi** (As in Tochishenron) means 'land' in Japanese


	8. Hot and Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma and Vegeta get to know a bit more about one another and Bulma becomes frustrated at Vegeta's mood swings.  
> Vegeta, too is frustrated. Just about... other things.

Bulma was quite surprised to see Vegeta finish the whole ‘boar’, besides the piece she was given. Apparently Saiyans have abnormally large appetites. They still haven’t spoken since she finished her tale of woe and adventure. He seemed to be digesting the information, along with all that meat he just had. She didn’t tell him her suspicions about him being the possible father of her future son,she knew how that sort of pressure can make a person do irrational things, like swim away from home. Finally, after what seemed like ages, he turned towards her.

‘It seems your people -or rather -these shark people that you told me about, their prophecy might describe the entities that I’m training to fight in three years time.

‘What, you mean the _Metal_ things? Don’t tell me you have a prophecy too! That would be just my luck.’

‘I wouldn’t call it a prophecy, but we have had forewarning from the future that a couple of androids would destroy the planet and that all of our warriors would perish by their hands in three years time. This is why I train. Well, that and to best my nemesis.’

‘What the heck are androids?’

‘Artificial humans -I am lead to believe. They are supposedly made of metal and circuitry.’

‘Can you please, for one moment, remember I am not from the surfaces and stop spewing things I don’t understand.’ 

‘What are you complaining about now, Woman? I cannot dumb things down any further for you.’

Bulma was exasperated. She didn’t understand the concepts he was projecting. She didn’t like feeling stupid, but there was a definite language barrier, despite the fact that they communicate telepathically. She sighed and tried to reign in her frustration, it must have been difficult for him as well, when she was explaining things. He did not complain as she did, just asked her to ‘clarify’. 

‘Ok, I apologize.’ She consented. ‘What is this circuitry you speak of?’

He seemed bewildered at her query, but answered nevertheless. ‘Circuitry is technology that allows the transmission of electrical pulses via conductive tracts.’

‘Oh! I think I understand. The Eelians might utilize this circuitry, as you call it. They are the more technologically advanced species of the Merrealm. Wow, that means humans have come far as well… Artificial humans... great Neptune they’re even more advanced than Eelians! One question though: Eelians generate electricity from their own bodies or use captured electric eels and as power sources, how do humans have access to it? Do they capture eels as well?’

‘Kami your people really are backwards.’ He deadpanned, ‘People can convert different types of energy to electricity: mechanical energy by means of rotating motors, exothermic chemical reactions, heat and combustion. It’s basic science Woman.’

He really had a way of pushing her buttons, which is why she really had no choice but to give him a piece of her mind.

‘Hey, buddy, I don’t like that patronizing tone you’re taking. For your information it is not as simple underwater as it is here on land. Water itself is a conductor and therefore directing electricity becomes that much harder. Also, this heat you land dwellers have such easy access to, it isn’t as freely available where I come from. We do not have a sun that bakes the earth or air that burns so easily so you can just shut up about how backwards we are. We don’t need electricity. We’re fine without it. And another thing presently, we are just getting out of a war with the only merrace who knows anything about electricity generation so it’s not like we can just swim on over and ask them to share their information. Do I find electricity interesting -sure! Would I have liked to learn more about it -why not? The fact of the matter is, that unfortunately I chose to join the army instead of becoming a scientist -which is the better of two options considering the limited resources and knowledge we have on the subject. All my life my priority was keeping my people safe and secure in their territory and while we may not know much about basic science -as you put it, I couldn’t be less ashamed of my race, my Queendom and what I’ve accomplished during my lifetime.’ 

They were silent for a beat. Bulma panting with indignation while Vegeta seemed contemplative.

“Hmm” it seemed this was Vegeta’s default reply when he couldn’t say anything mean. He was a man with few sentiments, Bulma noted, but at least he gave credit where it’s due.

‘Anyway,’ she continued, much calmer ‘back to the topic at hand.’

‘What, you’re finally done yapping?’ He said in a bored town. Just like that, her ire was up again.

_Why that_ \- she couldn’t even complete the thought and the next minute they were both standing face to face, Bulma spitting mad and Vegeta... wickedly amused, as always. 

‘You better wipe that smirk of your face or I’ll do it for you.’ She threatened.

“Hah!” ‘As if you can.’

For some reason, his blatant enjoyment of her anger caused those pesky shivers of arousal to surface again, despite the fact that she just wanted to smack that smirk of his face. Why did his lips look so delicious all of a sudden? Mating urges were so damn confusing.

She watched his nostrils flare ever so slightly and his taunting smirk became a lazy grin. ‘You better watch it, Woman. You’re nearing my last nerve.’ His mental voice was thick and syrupy, it made her heart pound and heat to flush south again. ‘I don’t think you’ll like what you’ll find when you’re on it.’

_What is he talking about now again - oh, his nerve_ ‘Oh yeah?’ She bluffed, ‘I think you’re all posture and no bite.’

To that he threw back his head and laughed, displaying said instruments of biting that looked very capable of their job -especially those slightly oversized incisors. When he looked at her again with those slightly lidded eyes, he suddenly seemed all the predator that she had no doubt he was. He slowly reached out, laying his palm on her face. His thumb traced the curve of her lower lip, causing them to tingle.

‘You are something else… Bulma’ he sent her, almost absently while his eyes were preoccupied by the line his thumb made. He then caught her eyes once more, and Bulma caught a flash of tenderness to accompany that small smile. It was the same, genuine half grin he showed her once before, while they were supposedly mid-battle in the clearing earlier today. It warmed her heart.

‘You… said my name.’ Bulma whispered, still half bewildered at his sudden shift from predatory to tenderness.

Then, as if diving into the icy ocean water after baking in the sun the whole day, the emotion was gone from his eyes, and he sat down, almost stiffly, and stared into the fire. Bulma took a while longer to come back down to earth. He seemed to be brooding again, she noted from his scrunched up eyebrows.

‘So…’ she started again, timidly ‘You say these androids are the same people from the Mershark Prophecy. How did you come to learn of them -if, as you say -it wasn’t from a prophecy?’

He was quiet for a while, seeming to decide whether or not to engage with her again, then he stood up. His back was to her and Bulma sensed a rebuttal in his manner even before he spoke.

‘I must get back to my training, Woman.’

Bulma sighed - _back to Woman again_ , she thought sadly.

‘Do you Saiyans not need sleep?’ She said and couldn’t hold back the bite in her tone, being rejected stings.

‘I’ll sleep when I’m dead, which won’t be in three years time and definitely won’t be by the hands of a couple of over-glorified toasters.’

Then he did the flying-away thing again, much to Bulma’s annoyance. He again managed to whip up so much wind with his ascent, who knows what else has gotten caught in her hair this time.

_Well,_ she thought, _it's a good thing it's bedtime for me. At least I can get cleaned up in the ocean_.

_And what the hell are ‘toasters’?_

For the next few days, it was back to square one with her island companion: He’d work out, She’d sit silently on the sideline watching. To say Bulma was getting frustrated by the cold shoulder was an understatement. Problem is, she really did not know what to make of his aloofness. She thought they were getting along so well, except for the spontaneous bursting out in battle and threats to the other’s life. She thought of going back to exploring the jungle, but not even that held the appeal that it previously had. Sitting in the clearing, watching Vegeta in one of his ‘kata’ routines, Bulma had an idea. She knew the moves by heart already, so she thought to join in. If that didn’t solicit a reaction she didn’t know what will. She fell in, just shy of his peripheral. It didn’t take long for him to notice her absence and trace her to his flank, imitating him. He froze, mouth gaping while he watched her copy his moves.

_Score one for Bulma_ she thought, attempting to hide her pleasure at his dumbfounded stare.

‘Woman, what are you doing?’ He asked, confusion most prevalent in his tone.

‘Training’ was her simple reply.

‘For what?’ This time his tone hinted at exasperation.

‘The androids, if they’re coming to destroy the planet and I’m somehow instrumental to their _not_ achieving that objective, according to the prophecy, then I want to be ready for when they arrive. How long are earth years?’ She continued in a no nonchalant, imitating his aloofness.

He sighed audibly, from the corner of her eye she caught him pinching the bridge of his nose.

‘You have lost your mind, Woman.’ He looked at her then. Bulma, who had at that moment paused expecting him to reply to her query, quickly resumed her copied kata under his obvious scrutiny.

* * *

She was doing it all wrong, was the first thought that flitted through his brain as he watched her try and imitate his moves. This thought was shortly followed by how if she squatted a little lower he would see a lot more of her skin than a tattooed leg. A very pleasant thought, no doubt but not very practical if the crazy woman was serious about taking up training. She would be an endless distraction. They were however, very nice legs -well shaped with strong muscles. Which brought him to his next conclusion -she had absolutely no ki control. Where her imitated movements were accurate to a tee, the accompanying energy flow in her body was all over the place. He sighed deeply and traced the energy in her body. She seemed to be operating on instinct, the majority of the energy was being distributed in her lower body. It was understandable. She seemed very unfamiliar with her legs, which meant she concentrated on moving them more often than her upper body therefore she was overcompensating with the energy flow through them.

Constantly comparing her movement to that of his own, Vegeta was distinctly aware of the moment when a high kick would expose to him what lay above those porcelain legs. Caught between wanting to see if it’s as blue there as on her head and wanting to correct her butchering of his kata, Vegeta left it till the last move before deciding: all in good time. Besides, he wasn’t a pervert. He would wait for the privilege to explore with full consent later on. 

‘Woman, you are butchering my kata.’ He stated. She paused, one leg bent, knee at her abdomen.

‘What do you mean, Vegeta? It looks exactly like yours.’

‘Looks, yes, but my routines involve a lot more than just moving. You need to focus your energy and release it at the appropriate times to the appropriate limbs.’

This seemed to surprise her.

‘How can you tell what my energy is doing?’ She asked, dropping the leg completely, much to Vegeta’s relief.

Rolling his eyes, Vegeta set his mind to his lecture. 

‘If you can sense the energy in your own body, it is possible to sense it in others’ as well. Although this is not an easy skill.

Energy is all around us. The warriors of this planet call it ki. Some call it chi, others chakra. Nevertheless, it is the same thing: potential energy accessible and convertible into light, heat and barriers by only the most skilled of warriors. Now, some people are born with a latent power level, in other words: a natural inclination to manipulate a certain amount of ki -like Saiyans. For others it’s a skill that comes with years of practice, focus and meditation. You, I sense, have a naturally high power level, but it seems you haven’t been trained in the correct manner to access it. For example, your trident is an instrument of energy manipulation, is it not?’

She nodded, brows furrowed in deep concentration.

‘When you use it, the gem imbedded in its centre glows and you can direct beams of energy with it. On my planet we used the same type of gems to teach our younglings to draw energy from the environment, into their bodies and out by means of these crystals. However, it seems you have never graduated from crystals as a means to direct energy. Once they get a feel for ki by means of crystals, our young ones attempt the direction of output energy without it. It takes some trial and error, but after a while your body adapts to the ki’s ebb and flow and you don’t need the crystal any more.’

‘Wow. I never knew this energy manipulation stuff was so complex. I use it mostly instinctively… I guess if I experimented more I probably would be better at it. As is, I already have a reputation at home of doing risky and unconventional energy things.’

‘Your trident is a crutch. Lose it. This is your first assignment. Now leave me in peace so I may finish my training.’ Vegeta stated sternly, he then returned to his kata.

As she moved to walk away, Vegeta suddenly remembered.

‘Wait,’ he said, reaching into a pocket in his training pants. He found the capsule he was looking for, popped it and threw it on the ground. From the smoke appeared a latched box. Vegeta checked Bulma’s face, amused by her astonished expression, and then said ‘Earth technology’ by way of explanation because Kami knew she’d probably start bombarding him with questions about capsulation soon enough.

From the box he pulled out a spare bodysuit in navy blue and tossed it to her.

‘Wear this It’s appropriate training gear.’ She looked down at her own apparel and threw him a quirky grin. Then she took the body suit from him and left, a saucy swing to her hips. The woman really was something, he thought with mild amusement.

Vegeta sighed as she departed, grateful to be distraction free for the next two weeks at least. That was how long it took the average Saiyan child to be weaned from energy crystals. Who knows, maybe he was overestimating her and it takes longer. If it takes longer than three weeks he should probably check up on her and help out, he decided. Until then... back to his own training.

Presently, Vegeta’s training mostly consisted of routine workouts as a warm up and warm down and meditating the rest of the time. He knew he was close to reaching the legendary, if the incident in the Gravity Trainer was anything to go by, but there was something still blocking him. He needed to revisit the exact channels his ki took in his mind. Thus uses the time mediation to prod different parts of his mind and body with energy, injecting ki until the he simulates the pathway he felt brought him to the brink of Super Saiyan. He guessed that it requires a sense of desperation to be felt at the time and therefore his mind constantly dwells on scenarios in which he felt that emotion. Suffice to say, Meditation wasn’t a very pleasant experience for Vegeta.

The Woman found his camp again by nightfall. She was carrying her trident in one hand and looked as frustrated as Vegeta felt. She plunked down next to him, unceremoniously and asked:

‘So what animal did you slaughter this time?’ Her vexation lifted Vegeta’s mood a little. He really didn’t know why he enjoyed it so much when she was angry, but it excited him.

‘One of the planet’s giant reptilian species. They’re called dinosaurs I think.’

‘It’s massive’ she stated. She was wearing his body suit, it left even less to the imagination than that semi-see through metal sheath she used to wear. He felt a distinct tightening in his groin and decided, not for the first time, that the woman will be the death of him. Still, her presence made his evening lot more enjoyable, despite the accompanying sexual frustration. 

Deciding that a little teasing was in order, Vegeta said:

‘So, Woman, you’ve never copulated with one of your kind before?’ At first she seemed startled by his inquiry, then a beautiful pink blush bloomed across her cheeks.

‘No. I have told you this before.’ Her tone hinted at skepticism.

‘I am simply confused as to whether the it was the breeding that was impossible, or the sex.’

‘I, uhm… breeding. Why are we on this topic anyway?’ She was becoming more and more flustered. Perfect.

‘...So you were just prude by nature then.’ He stated, grinning like a Cheshire cat. It was so easy to push her buttons. She gasped, appalled, and the next thing he knew an energy beam was heading for him. He batted it into the sky with ease and watched her embarrassed anger skyrocket.

‘Why you! I was not a prude you.. You pervert! I was a princess! I had social expectations and responsibilities!’ By this time they were both upright, Bulma was trying her damndest to hit him with her trident and every time he dodged, her efforts became more desperate and sloppy. Vegeta was enjoying himself immensely. She might be a distraction, but she was a welcome one at that moment. She banished the dark thoughts still lingering in his mind from his meditation session earlier. Deciding he was done playing around, Vegeta grabbed her trident by its blade when she swung again. Her surprise turned into outright shock when he hauled her body against his. 

‘And now, Woman? He whispered, his humor gone. You may have been a princess back home but out here you are just as I am. Without your subjects, and your titles, you are about as important as a pebble rolling in the waves. No subjects. No social expectation. No responsibilities, but to your own desires and aspirations.’

She was breathing heavily, each inhale pushed her breasts up against him. Her scent hit him, tinged with desire and it took almost all his self control not to push her up against a tree and rip off that tight training suit he regretted giving to her the moment he saw her in it. His nose told him that her body was ready, but the hint of anxiety he could see in her wide eyes told him another story: not yet. He breathed out a frustrated sigh and let her go. She sunk bonelessly to the floor. Vegeta cursed and ran his hands through his hair, to prevent his itching palms from grabbing for her again. A change of subject was in order, for both their sakes.

‘How is your ki training progressing?’ he asked, almost desperately.

She took a while to answer, but eventually stammered out a ‘fine’ when she finally regained her senses. Vegeta grinned at her flustered state, glad to see he wasn’t the only one suffering. After a few more ticks of silence her thoughts reached him, hesitant at first.

‘Vegeta?’

“Hmm” 

‘Tell me about your planet.’

Not a welcome topic change, Vegeta thought, but it was a much needed bucket of ice water on his raging hormones. He decided, this time to oblige her.

He took a deep breath, eyes drawn to the stars out of habit, looking for the light of Planet Vegeta’s sun and finding only a void. It had long since stopped shining in this galaxy. Vegeta considered giving her the watered down version of his story. He knew if he came out looking like the victim her respect for him, the admiration that he saw in her eyes when she watched him train, would remain intact. He decided against it. Somewhere over the course of their acquaintance he had come to value her too much to have her believing a lie. She deserved the truth in all his ugliness. She deserved to know that he wasn’t a good man. Also, he was no coward to shy away from the things he had done. A feeling of dread settled in the pit of his stomach when he considered that she might reject him after this. That she would run from him in disgust. He didn’t know when he started caring so much. The realization compounded the sick feeling already churning in his gut. Caring about people is a weakness that Vegeta had learnt early on in life, could easily be exploited. Those types of attacks hurt more than physical assault… and yet, that buffoon Kakarot had so many friends and loved ones, and his need to protect them always seemed to push him that extra little bit to close the power gap between him and his opponent. Even if it went against everything that Vegeta was taught, he had to grudgingly admit that there might be some method to his madness. So he took a calculated risk… and told her everything.

Recounting all his endeavors to another person was oddly liberating, he could almost see the rose-tinted image she had of him slowly darkening with every gruesome confession. Vegeta found himself sharing more than he planned to, more than the cold hard facts. As the emotions spilled from him unfiltered, Vegeta felt a massive weight lift off his shoulders. And then the strangest thing happened, the burning in his chest, that he felt every time he thought of Frieza and what he had done to his race, dulled somewhat. Even if he didn’t get his revenge, he was still relieved that the Galactic tyrant met his end at the hand of a Saiyan. Even if said Saiyan’s heritage is questionable at most. 

The Woman sat quietly beside him, a haunted look in her eyes. Vegeta silently mourned the death of her ignorance. She no doubt saw him in a completely different light now. She would now know him for the monster he truly was. She would leave, he thought and something in his chest cracked at the thought. Someone as good as her will not want to be affiliated by someone as tainted as he was. Will she even be able to look him in the eyes again? Rather than staying to face her rejection, Vegeta decided that he would leave. She didn’t even acknowledge his departure. After a while, she left too.


	9. Blood on his Gloves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma contemplates the horrors if Vegeta's past and whether his confession had affected her own feelings for him.  
> An unexpected visitor makes an appearance on the island.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are heating up between our protagonists.  
> The forecast for today is suggestive themes with a change of mild citrus ahead.

Bulma kept replaying their conversation over and over in her mind, trying to consider Vegeta’s backstory with an objective eye... and failing spectacularly. _Damn him_.

She wanted to resent him for the things he told her he’d done. She should hate him for all the innocent blood on his hands. If he had told her sooner that his so called ‘warrior race’ was actually a bunch of sadistic mercenaries destroying whole civilizations for profit; she’d have told him a long time ago just where he can go stick an electric eel and would have then proceeded to find herself another island to explore. Things were much more complicated now. He was not good. He might be a prince, but he was no one’s hero. His people even went as far as sending their infants to purge planets with low level life forms. Fortunately for Earth the baby Saiyan that was sent here hit his head and forgot all about his mission, and if said Saiyan didn’t presently happen to be stronger than Vegeta, Earth would have been space dust a long time ago. The Saiyans were a rotten bunch, in her opinion and according to Vegeta’s history, he was no better.

But… Try as she might though, the only emotion she could find within herself for him was pity. His story was so… tragic. And the man who spilled his emotions to her the previous night was, in her opinion, a broken man. He might not see it that way, that over exaggerated sense of pride of his might be the only holding him together, but Bulma wouldn’t wish his past on anyone. 

Taken at a young age to go and kill for a galactic emperor, while his planet -his people - were held ransom for his servitude: she could not fault him for his cold exterior and jaded heart. This Frieza character stole his heritage, Bulma thought, anger simmering in her chest. Any way she looked at it, Vegeta was _made_ into the monster that he had become, so that, even had he managed to regain his crown he would not have been the leader that his people deserved. His mind had become warped and his heart hardened against the pain and suffering of others. 

He spent all those years in that tyrant's service, clinging to the promise that he will one day surpass his enslaver. Putting all his trust in a Legend and believing the Super Saiyan his birthright. That he would one day repay all his enemies for all the injury they’ve caused him. All that horrors he endured, and in the end it was all for nothing. His planet was destroyed and the young Vegeta lied to about the cause of its destruction. His vengeance, his rage, was almost tangible to her when he recounted his desperate search for the means to become stronger following the death of his planet. The futility, his sense of failure and humiliation when he faced his own death on the planet Namek. All these emotions flowed from his story and buried itself deep in her heart. His shame and the envy he felt when he realized another low born Saiyan had achieved what he considered to be _his_ birthright and defeated Frieza in his stead. Then after his resurrection, the voids left behind within him was an ache in her own breast. The absence of a purpose was a near constant cause of despair. 

And so he falls back into the familiar cycle of vengeance and the desperate pursuit of power to best his enemy, blaming this Kakarot character for stealing his destiny from him and now training furiously again to regain that destiny. For all that he seemed so unfeeling and cold, Vegeta’s emotions were a hurricane inside him. His pride being predominantly the driving force behind his actions, and her heart wept for him and for the little prince who had everything taken from him.

Bulma thought back to the moment they shared in front of the fire. The knee weakening, womb clenching moment where his eyes had offered her exactly what she wanted, what her body had been craving. _What stopped him?_ She couldn't help but wonder. His lust for her had been obvious. She replayed their interaction: his arm around her, his body flush with hers all along her front. Bulma may be inexperienced when it came to carnal relations, but she wasn’t dumb. She had to believe his little speech earlier about having no more responsibilities or social expectation was his convoluted manner of propositioning her for sex. She felt the heat flare in her face as she recalled how easily he subdued her, after she had worked herself into such an indignant temper one moment, only to find herself firmly pressed up against that rock hard chest the next. His arms felt like a steel cage, trapping her against the hard planes of his body. He was so warm, and he smelled sensational: musky and intense and… mouthwatering. Her softness seemed to mold over his hardened physique and she definitely did not miss that suspicious shaft-like protrusion at the juncture of his thighs pressing firmly into her lower abdomen. The memory had her core quickening all over again, her body flushing with languid heat proving that even after his horrifying tale, she still craved his touch.

He melted all of her resistance even before he let those dark temptations filter into her mind: brief glimpses - his fantasies - of the things he had in store for her. She didn’t think he was even aware that he was letting her see them. Visions of sweat slicked skin grinding against each other, of hands stroking and squeezing, mouths tasting and teasing. The intensity of his lust for rammed her like that Great White Shark had, rocking her to the core. It triggered opposite reactions in her body and her mind. Her limbs felt so weak, so pliant, instantly submitting itself to him. Her mind, though, was terrified by the unfamiliarity of it all, while the idea of sex with Vegeta loosened her body with lethargic heat, the reality of the situation chilled her to the core. She was fertile now, and having sex meant the possibility of babies. Therein the possibility of a son, which meant the long awaited heir to their throne. A male heir would also mean the salvation of the land and sea, according to the prophecies. It was so much responsibility. Was she ready to become the mother to uniter of the realms? The task seemed monumental. Did she even have a choice in the matter? This thought scared her the most. She hated the fact that the Neptune-forsaken prophecy made her no more than a pawn in a god’s game. It made her feel boxed in, and with Vegeta’s arms around her even more so. And Vegeta: how did he fit into the plan? Didn’t he have the right to know what the consequences of her consent could be? Should she even be making this decision so lightly. After all, she had known nothing of the man Vegeta was. These doubts flitted through her mind while staring into his molten eyes. He must have seen her indecision, she suddenly realized, because the next moment she was standing alone again, feeling bereft without his arm wrapped around her, and vulnerable because of it.

Well, she asked him about his past and now she knew exactly the sort of man he was. He had the blood of billions on his hands. Surely the gods did not mean for this destroyer of civilizations to sire the savior of _their_ civilization. Then again, maybe by some cosmic joke this was exactly what they had in mind. Deities enjoy those sort of ironic twists when weaving the tapestry of fate, or so Marron tells her. 

It was strange, rather than being repelled by all the bloodshed and violence in his dark past, Bulma felt more drawn to him now than she ever was. She could not identify the man in his story with the one she had come to know and care about. Sure he was prickly and a little bit crazy, but there was still light left in him. She witnessed it in those rare smiles he gifted her with, and the considerate way he’d share his food, his possessions with her, and damn if Bulma wasn’t a sucker for fixing broken things. All he needed was someone to pick up the pieces and glue them all back together and Bulma’s ego was just big enough to consider herself for the position. Then surely she’ll find the noble Prince she saw shining through the cracks of his broken psyche. The one who had backed off when he realized how conflicted she was about being with him. And when he told her about his past, the unabridged horrors of his childhood, Vegeta essentially offered a part of himself to her that he did not have to and she’ll be damned if she squandered the opportunity. She needed to show him that she was worth his confidence and his respect. Her intention mate with the man suddenly evolved into so much more than. Bulma wanted, no needed, to heal him. A foolish and illogical course that will probably end badly, she admitted, but it might turn out to be one hell of an adventure. And the blue haired warrior princess always favored adventure over sanity anyway. 

* * *

It’s been a week, Vegeta thought. A week and not hair or tail was seen of his blue haired sea-goddess since the evening he recounted his past to her. Vegeta was cursing himself for his candidness -he should have just seduced her and been done with it a long time ago. If he thought she was a distraction before, frolicking around in barely-there armor and bare porcelain legs, it was nothing compared to her just avoiding him altogether. Vegeta wanted to know what was going on in that enigmatic mind of hers. Did she hate him? Was she disgusted with his past? Did her body still crave his as much as his did hers? The current status of their relationship left Vegeta with a restless agitation with a kind of emptiness that needed to be filled with... something. 

He could still sense her: at the opposite end of the island, her ki spiking erratically for hours on end. He guessed she was probably training -as per his advice -to utilize her ki without the trident. For Vegeta it was a ray of hope that she was still on his island and that she was practicing what he taught her. 

Vegeta did not know when exactly she became so important to him -and he did not particularly like it either. He kept trying to remind himself of the vulnerability attachments caused, but with a resigned sigh he admitted that it was too late anyway. He cared for the damned woman. The only thing to do now was to attempt mending their somewhat frayed bond. With that thought in mind, Vegeta decided to go check up on his latest student.

He landed far off to her side, as silently as he could. She was sitting cross legged on the beach, facing the ocean. Her trident was stuck in the sand, standing upright before her. The blue gem embedded in its center bent the rays of sunshine through it to reflect a rainbow in the mists blowing from the sea. She seemed magnificent, serene and otherworldly as her teal tresses blew softly in the wind.

Her hands were cupped before her and a ball of blue energy was flickering unsteadily above them. With her brows furrowed in concentration, Bulma rose carefully from her seated position and began walking towards the ocean. As she entered the surf, the waves in front of her began to shrink and flatten, becoming still around her form, meanwhile, the energy in her hands grew bigger and more stable.

She was using the energy from the waves, Vegeta noted with awe. What happened next however astounded the Saiyan Prince even more. She dissipated the energy, but not into the air, as he usually did, but back into the water. A giant wave suddenly rose up before her and completely engulfed the woman. Vegeta panicked, wondering for an instant if the weight of the water might not have crushed her before logic reminded him of what she was. Vegeta could make out her steadily pulsing elevated ki level from within the wave. He felt it approach him. She emerged then, completely dry, surrounded by a solid barrier of water. The look of concentration on her face had Vegeta smirking in satisfaction. With grudging pride he admitted that he gave the woman far less credit than she was worth.

Manipulating the natural elements is a step up from general ki control and requires a complete and in depth understanding of the flow of energy associated with each element. Not surprising, her application of his teaching led her to turn to the element she was most familiar with: water.

She had gone above and beyond his expectations with her accomplishment and the demonstration of her power was a turn on like no other, he thought hotly. The woman was strong.

Having no doubt already noticed him, Bulma paused just out of the water and turned towards him. The self satisfied smirk she threw his way was more informative than a million words to Vegeta. It told him that the demonstration had been solely for him, as a means to seek his approval. Her stance was proud, daring him to find fault where none was present. Outwardly Vegeta still donned an impassive and stern persona. Even though he was relieved that she seemed to bear him no ill will after their conversation, he was still unsure as to where they stood with one another. It was Bulma who then broke the ice.

‘You’re wrong, you know’ she started. His face must have shown his confusion for she continued.

‘I still have a responsibility towards my people. Even though I might not be at my there, their expectations will not change’

‘Oh?’ Was his seemingly nonchalant reply. Vegeta chest tightened, disappointment flooding through him. She was rejecting him after all. He understood however. She was good, more than a black hearted murderer like him deserves, he would taint her with his touch. She hesitated and Vegeta braced for the finishing blow. 

‘That dragon deposited me here for a reason.’ She continued, oblivious to Vegeta’s stone cold demeanor and rapidly hardening heart. ‘I needed to find you... I think we need to have a child together.’

Whatever Vegeta was expecting, it certainly was not that. His shock was evident by his quick gasp, followed by violent coughing and sputtering as he choked on his own saliva. Bulma was blushing furiously as she wrung out her fingers in helpless embarrassment.

‘Woman you have truly lost your mind.’ He said once he had managed to get his spasming lungs under control. The woman cringed.

‘It’s the only thing that makes sense!’ She shouted defensively. ‘My people want a son and the prophecies speak about an heir to both land and sea.’

‘Are you sure I’m the one you’re looking for to father your precious heir?’ He asked bitterly. Suddenly feeling very objectified., like a means to an end, which in this case would be someone to sit on an oceanic throne. ‘I’m a murderer, Woman, I kill for pleasure. I’m not father material. Besides, I’m not even from this planet.’

‘Oh? If you didn’t want to mate with me why else did you proposition me the other night? You know I am fertile. If I had agreed I would have probably been expecting right this instant.’

‘Sex does not necessarily lead to procreation, Woman. Did your people not have contraceptives?’

‘Contra-who now?’

Vegeta was dumbfounded, suddenly realising how horribly mistranslated both his proposition and her acceptance thereof had been. When he had cornered her a few weeks prior, his lust filled brain failed to fully comprehend the impact of his offer. After considering it however, Vegeta would be lying if he said he wasn’t slightly pleased that she would still consider him to father her child, however impractical he knew the idea to be. It meant she still wanted him, despite his past. He was just about to address the woman again when a familiar figure suddenly appeared before her. Vegeta did not even have time to register his own surprise when the figure turned towards him. His orange gi was shining unusually bright, but it was nothing compared to the brightness of the moronic grin the fool was sporting: Kakarot. 

“Hi Vegeta, boy have you been difficult to track down.” He said, making his way over to where Vegeta stood. Resentment flared within the elite Saiyan, the only outward sign of it being the clenching of his fists. His face remained impassive however and his stance deceptively casual. Vegeta glanced over at Bulma, who was on her ass in the sand. She had fallen backwards when the earth saiyan teleported in front of her. Her eyes were wide as saucers as she stared at the newcomer, but she seemed otherwise unharmed. He decided to dismiss her for now and focused his attention back on the unwelcome visitor.

“Kakarot,” he said by way of greeting “what do you want?”

Kakarot paused, glanced back at Bulma, who by then had visibly relaxed and seemed instantly intrigued as she now observed the stranger. He turned back to Vegeta with that idiotic expression of embarrassment, and his hand went up to scratch at his unruly mane. 

“I uh.. came to check out the unfamiliar power level I felt during my meditation… I was actually trying to lock onto your ki signature when I found hers instead.” He then turned to her. “You’re quite strong, you know. I’m sorry I frightened you by appearing out of the blue like that.” When she didn’t seem to have anything to say in return, Kakarot shrugged and turned his attention back to Vegeta. “Is she a friend of yours?” He asked with that overly bright grin.

If Vegeta didn’t know Kakarot to be an oblivious oaf, he’d have sworn that the fool’s tone sounded more than a little suggestive. 

“That’s none of your business, fool. So, I suggest you say what you came here to say and leave.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Bulma stand up and make her way towards them. Kakarot, it seemed was more openly curious. Vegeta tried not to show the intensity of pride and possessiveness he felt swelling in his chest when she stopped behind himself, standing close enough to touch him. She suddenly tilted her head sideways, as if slightly confused.

‘This is Kakarot?’ She whispered into his mind.

‘Yes’ was his abrupt reply. Kakarot's eyes flitted between the two of them, confused as he seemed to be making up his mind about what to make of the two of them, before his eyebrows shot straight up and he smiled slyly. 

“Ok Vegeta” he said, a subtle teasing in his tone. “I actually only wanted to tell you that Dr Briefs fixed the Gravity Trainer.”

Now it was Vegeta’s turn to be surprised. With all that was going on between himself and the woman, he forgot about the reparations to the GT. It was another testament to huge the distraction the woman was. His brows furrowed, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed at abandoning his plans of seduction, and the thought angered him. His priorities have been slipping.

_But no more_. He thought passionately, staring hotly into the eyes of the taller saiyan. It was time to get his head on straight. Kakarot recognized the fire immediately and his own stance shifted to meet the challenge in Vegeta’s eyes. In an instant, he left the bumbling earthling persona behind and became the battle-hungry saiyan warrior Vegeta despised... and grudgingly admired.

The moment ended too soon, as Kakarot managed to get distracted by the woman once more.

“Hey, you should bring her on over to Capsule Corp.” He told Vegeta. “I don’t know if Vegeta’s told you,” he said, speaking to Bulma this time, “but we’re training to fight some people who are going to come and attempt to kill off this planet’s population in the future.”

“-The woman does not speak, Kakarot. You’re making an ass of yourself”

“...Oh. Well she doesn’t need to be able to speak to understand, or even to fight. I sense a lot of untapped potential in this one Vegeta. With some training, she could be of some help.”

“Let me worry about her potential, you’re better off worrying about your own power level. Make no mistake, Kakarot, once I reach the level of Super Saiyan and kill off the androids, it’s your ass that’s going to be next.”

“Looking forward to it” he answered with a very Saiyan like smirk, before placing his fingers to his forehead. He was gone in an instant.

Vegeta found himself pacing the beach with restless energy. He needed to leave. Not only the island, but he needed to go off planet. He couldn’t risk a repeat of the gravity machine debacle. The only way to ensure a stable, high pressure (and gravity) environment, suitable for optimizing his training, is to go off-world and find a bigger or denser planet. 

The problem was… he was torn -and it was all _her_ fault. If he left, he had no guarantee of seeing her again. It was insane. She shouldn’t mean so much to him. His first priority should always be getting stronger… and yet. He felt lighter around her, less self obsessed. She chased away some of the shadows in his bloodstained past. It was an addictive feeling. If he left, he would lose it -lose her and the most frustrating thing about it was that he was doubting whether or not it was worth it. 

She knew about his past, the blood on his hands and she still wanted him. He glanced over at where she sat, staring at him with obvious concern and uncharacteristic uncertainty. Her cerulean blue eyes caught his and he sucked in a suddenly labored lung full of air.. She was the only person whose gaze could make him forget all his pragmatism.

He headed back to her and sat down in the sand next to her.

‘I’m leaving,’ he started.

‘I’m coming along’ she stated immediately afterwards. He met her eyes and was pleased to see the determination there. It was settled then, he thought and felt as if a heavy burden had been lifted from his chest.

He would stay and train on earth and hope to Kami that the good doctor’s machinery is more robust this time round. It wasn’t ideal, but Vegeta considered it an acceptable compromise. Besides, like Kakarot said: she had so much potential. With his help she could easily surpass even Kakarot’s weakling team of earth fighters, and even better: he didn’t need to abandon his plans for her tight little body just yet. 


	10. The Clever Barracuda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back in the ocean, Bulma has left her home world in quite a state.  
> Her friend Ray the Barracuda's mad detective skills manages to suss out what she'd been up to.
> 
> Bulma meets the Briefs of Capsule Corp and strikes up an easy friendship with the pair of eccentrics.  
> However it seems she's not as equipped to deal with the surface world as she thought.

Ray Naga attempted to keep himself as motionless and unobtrusive as possible, which, as anyone witnessing his current predicament would have told him, is a wasted effort. Around him floated the Queen’s Council and their advisors, arranged in a semicircle in the amphitheatre that was the throne room. Queen Morgana, it seemed to Ray was of the same mind as he, staying silent and serene as chaos reigned around her.

Ray’s mind was abuzz with the sentiments and passionate emotions of the outraged merfolk around him. It seems however, that outrage was the only emotion the mers in the room had in common. What to do about the problem at hand was a point of constant and tedious contention.

‘Send an army! It’s the only way to assure that she will be captured and returned unharmed!’ Councillor Jahto shouted.

‘Are you mad, man! The ink of our truce with the Eelian folk is barely set and trade relations are just now restoring, you’ll incite another war.’ Council member Cairo answered.

‘Jahto is right! We should spare no expense. This is our future - our long awaited King - that we are talking about’ yet another Councillor chipped in. A brief silence followed, in which each Councillor seemed to confer with their present entourage before the arguing started back up.

‘There is no evidence that the princess Bulma is as you say. She is already fully fledged and mature, if she had any breeding capabilities - biologically - it would have manifested itself years ago.’ This came from Councillor Manta, who up until that point had been mostly silent. He was answered by Cairo.

‘I disagree, her own twin sister had testified only last week that the princess Bulma had started shedding her chest scales. Marron is a priestess, and she has sworn under oath that Bulma is fertile. She would not lie. I do agree that Bulma’s safe retrieval is of utmost importance, but there must be a more diplomatic means of achieving it.’

‘If Marron is as truthful as you say she is, why would she wait nearly a month to come forward with this information? The search for the missing Captain had already been going on for weeks when Marron came forward with her questionable revelation. I say leave the spoiled wretch to her decisions, if she is indeed meant to fulfill the prophecy, there will be nothing any of us can do to accomplish or circumvent it. All is in the Great Neptune’s hand. ’ Manta replied, his sarcasm and skepticism clearly projected to all that was present. He did have a point, Ray conceded. As the arguing continued, Ray’s thoughts turned inward.

In retrospect, Bulma did seem unusually jittery when he encountered her the day it turned out that she was fleeing the City. She said she was in the shopping district getting a coming of age gift for Princess Marina...but she was in armor. If it were anyone but Bull Shark that fed him that line he would have called it immediately, but Bulma can bluster like no one he’s ever seen and he didn’t see the blood in the water until it was too late. By the time it came out that she fled, she was long gone. Damn that mermaid! What he still couldn’t figure out was: why? Why did she swim off? The official story was that she was swimming from her responsibilities, that she was chosen to be the next Queen and she rejected the appointment. That story wasn’t very well received by the general population, by the way. The people loved Bulma. She was their champion, their Bull Shark that could do no wrong. A fierce warrior and a great leader; she would never abandon her people when they needed her leadership and when they would wholeheartedly support and encourage her coronation. For them it made no sense whatsoever, and all sorts of rumors and conspiracies have since been circulating the waters of the realm. Ray’s favorite of them being the one where the Council did away with her now that they no longer needed her to fight in the war because her influence intimidated them. Ray was more inclined, however reluctantly, to believe the official story. He knew the Bulma _behind_ the reputation, the good and the bad. If it were indeed true that they would have appointed her Queen, that mermaid would swim as if the Imoogi himself was after her. She despised the corrupt and misogynistic system their government was based on and would never have consented to become its figurehead queen. Her blatantly seditious sentiments would have gotten her severely punished and thrown out of the military If it weren’t for the fact that she was a royal, beloved by the people and damn good at what she did.

If Bulma swam because she developed breeding capabilities -an unlikely occurrence as Councilman Manta already emphasised - then there would in a sense be nowhere to hide with the new strained truce between Eel and Mammal merfolk. They would either kill her quietly or send her back as quickly as if she were diseased. And if sources put her last sighting at the Eastern Wild Gate -a Gate dedicated to controlling access into and from the eastern wilderness situated between Mammalian and Eelian territory, and he knew Bulma as well as he thinks he does, then that would put her intended destination, and he can’t even believe he’s thinking it... the surface. Bulma, the bloody lunatic, was enacting the plan the two of them and a few other co-conspirators drunkenly cooked up on the eve of battle against the Eelian army. He did not know for certain at first, had just had a hunch, but the further under the sonar his investigation took him, the more his suspicions grew. And the favors called in confirmed that Bulma was indeed last heard of heading for Redemption’s Pass. Whatever her true reason for swimming away was, Ray at least had a good idea of where she was heading, which landed him in his current predicament: floating before a divided Council with valuable intel and a proposition they would be fools to refuse.

When all the rooms attention finally turned to him, his mental voice rang loud and confident through the throne room. Speaking to the queen, as is custom he said:

‘Your Majesty, I believe that Bulma has fled to the surface’

His statement was met with instant silence. Councillor Manta was the first to recover.

‘What?’ he roared. 

Ray looked towards the Queen, her serene expression was cracked, revealing the concern behind the mask. ‘What evidence do you have of this?’ she asked shakily.

Ray took a deep breath and launched into his explanation, starting with the night they hatched the outrageous plan. When he concluded his tale, he was met with varying sentiments. While some believed, the most prominent reaction seemed to be skepticism.

‘So you’re telling me that you believe that Princess Bulma, one of the most intelligent warriors of the realm, would completely lose her senses and attempt a journey to the surface based on an insane plan you cooked up together in an inebriated state?’ Councillor Jahto asked. His tone permeated with amused cynicism. 

‘I’m merely pointing to the logical conclusion of the evidence that I’ve gathered, Sir.’ he stated, reverting to military propriety in an attempt to reign in his annoyance.

‘Yes… evidence. Evidence like sources seemingly located in Eelian territory? And pray tell, just who are these mysterious informants, Lieutenant?’ 

‘My contacts would like to keep their identities hidden, Sir’ he said, clenching his teeth. The merman’s patronizing manner was starting to get on his last nerve.

‘Well then, your testimony will be considered as all just hearsay and your evidence dismissed…’

Ray was shocked, to say the least. He looked around the room, desperately hoping that someone would believe him and advocate his story. He didn’t even get to the part where he proposed an extraction mission. Stony faces glared back at him, seemingly placated by Councillor Jahto’s verdict. The guards had already left their post, swimming to escort him from the room. Ray was just about to revert to pathetic begging when the Queen swam from her throne to float in the center of the room.

‘Wait…’ she said and the guards stalled. Looking at him with piercing blue eyes so similar to Bulma’s that his heart gave a little twist, the Queen asked:

‘If your story is true, we should expect to find a page missing from the Queen’s Book, a book that only royalty has access to, specifically, the map to the Reef. What shall we do if we find such an occurrence, Councillor Jahto? Prior investigation did put Bulma in the Treasury the day of her escape.’ she addressed the bewildered Councillor.

‘I uh… we shall have to consider the merit of Lieutenant Ray’s story.’ he admitted grudgingly. The rest of the merpeople bobbed restlessly in their places, uncertainty once again coloring the tone of the assembly.

‘And what, Lieutenant Ray, are you then proposing to do if your testimony proves to have merit, as the Councillor so puts it?’

‘I would like your permission to assemble a small task force to retrieve her.’ 

The Queen nodded. Then turned to the audience. Whatever her expression was, for Ray could not see it, invoked quite a bit of contention, but Ray sensed grudging acquiescence as well. He smirked. It seemed like the Queen had more spine than they gave her credit for.

‘You do know that only descendants of Queen Aquellé the Cursed are believed to be able to walk on land.’ Jahto spoke up in a halfhearted protest to his proposal.

‘I am that.’ he stated, his confidence returning, ‘and so is the rest of my proposed team.’

‘Naga… Yes, I recall now.’ the Queen stated softly, ‘You are the grandson of the Traitor: Former Councillor Jerome Naga. Your grandfather was the first direct male descendant of the cursed queen. One of her lesser daughters was his grandmother. He made quite a fuss about it too, I remember - stating he was the rightful heir to the throne. Had any of your ancestors been born the characteristic trait of the Arowanian house, the three shaded tail, he probably would have succeeded in his coup. It’s all moot now anyway, since more males were later also born to the lesser lines of the Aquellé’s descendants.’ 

‘A sign that the time is drawing closer for the true male heir to be born. Which is why I reiterate,’ Councillor Jahto injected, ‘We should spare no expense. We should retrieve Bulma at all costs. Currently, Darya is next in line to the throne - as she is your strongest fertile daughter wearing a three shaded tail, but her power pales in comparison to Bulma’s. Bulma must be found. Our very future is at stake.’

‘You are sure the others you require on your mission are of this legacy?’ the Queen asked Ray.

‘I am, your Majesty.’

‘Good. Let it be so.’ the Queen agreed before further protests were made. Ray breathed out a relieved sigh. Bulma had better have followed their plan to the letter and taken that page, or they were both screwed. Whatever the assembly’s outcome though, Ray swore, he would stop at nothing until that crazy mermaid’s tail was firmly and deeply back in the ocean, even if he had to drag her back in chains.

* * *

“Bulma, Dear?” a blond headed woman peeked into her room, her eyes were so slanted as to seem constantly closed -that and it seemed the woman had a permanent smile on her face. It was quite disturbing, yet strangely endearing as well. Bulma lifted her nose from the book it was buried in and set it aside.

“Yes?” The mermaid answered her hostess in an uncertain voice. She had been given her own room upon arriving at Capsule Corporation. When they left the island, Vegeta had offered to fly her, a notion that Bulma found extremely romantic… it was _extreme_ alright, but romantic is not the sentiment Bulma would attach to the actual experience. After a few seconds of hollering until her vocal cords burned (a strange sensation as she wasn’t accustomed to use them all that much) and clinging for dear life as she felt her stomach attempting to turn itself inside out, Bulma finally managed to convince Vegeta that she would not slow him down if he should set her in the ocean. He reluctantly complied, consenting to fly low enough that she could see him and needless to say grumbling the whole way down. She smiled, thinking of his gruff demeanor hiding a considerate heart, even if it were only towards her, a smile that widened considerably when she thought of his reaction to her speed in the water. She could easily keep up. Her newly attained ki control definitely improved her swimming speed and agility, not that she wasn’t fast before. Swimming in shallow water is considerably easier than swimming as deep as she was accustomed to all her life. Like she explained to Vegeta, it was like living in a high pressure environment such as that of his Gravity Trainer that was currently humming and straining outside the compound, once you’re free of it you feel infinitely stronger and faster. He didn’t say so, but she could sense that he was impressed and it made a bubble of warmth blossom in her chest. That was two weeks ago, before he dumped her on her bottom -for he had to eventually fly with her again once they ran out of ocean -before two flabbergasted humans: Dr. and Ms. Briefs. To them he spoke brusquely in a somewhat intelligible language before turning toward her, a frown on his brow.

‘These are your hosts, Dr. and Ms Briefs. They are very influential people on this planet so treat them graciously.’ His frown deepened as he seemed to consider something. He looked between Bulma and the Briefs once, then again through their link said ‘You shall have to learn to speak as the humans do -I have no time, nor the desire to play mediator for you. Besides, indulging you in this manner wouldn’t do anyone any favors. I have no doubt you possess the needed mental capability to accomplish such an undertaking by the end of the month. I will give you my assistance until then, but only in the evening as I will be training during the day.’ He suddenly turned to walk away, but as an afterthought paused and added: ‘Do not try to pry into their minds, it is not a very pleasant sensation when done against one’s will and might cause mental harm to these humans. Not that I particularly care but I depend on the elder Brief’s mental faculties.’ 

To say she was unceremoniously left to her own devices was an understatement. It seemed he had reverted to the aloof and cold prince he used to be before they established their mental link. His sudden personality 180 coupled with being in a foreign environment left her confused with now idea how to proceed. She did not know what to expect from these humans and that in turn caused her to panic and do exactly what Vegeta asked her not to. She attempted telepathic communication. In hindsight, she realized that she might have deliberately defied him for the thoughtless way he just plopped her down in front of strangers without so much as a by your leave.

‘Excuse me,’ she sent her first communication. Both humans seemed to react differently. Ms. Brief glanced around her, looking for something in the air and proceeded to wave her hand above her head as if swiping at something. Mr Brief subtly shook his head before pinning her with wizened blue eyes that narrowed in contemplation.

‘Excuse me,’ she tried more forcefully. Ms Briefs looked around more frantically before mumbling something to her husband and reaching to rub at her temples. Dr Briefs’ eyes widened and he spoke something to Bulma. She heard the individual syllables but her mind, unaccustomed to processing language from audio, took a while to translate. She had to repeat the words he spoke to her over in her head to get the meaning of them. When she finally managed to understand them, it was like a light shining into her mind, illuminating a dark place that has seen much neglect. 

“Is that you, young lady?” was what he asked and he seemed just as awed about the sudden communication as she did. She could do nothing but nod, mutely.

‘My name is Bulma.’ she projected telepathically.

“Where is that buzzing coming from? Do we have a beehive somewhere, dear?” Ms Brief’s asked her husband. 

“That is incredible!” Mr Briefs shouted.

It took about two heartbeats for her brain to process their words, it was like talking with a severe lag between sentences in a conversation. Dr. Briefs completely ignored his wife, his focus fixed on Bulma. He seemed eager, as if he had discovered a new toy. It made Bulma nervous.

“It seems my wife cannot process the words you are sending out, but I can... Bulma, you say?” She nodded in reply to which his face lit up like a Barreleye* fish. 

“Incredible!” Then more hesitantly, “Would you mind… I would like to run some tests in my laboratory… on you. It won’t be painful, I promise.” 

After processing his request, Bulma nodded once more, unable to see the harm in it. After all, if these people were untrustworthy, Bulma did not think Vegeta would have left her to their care. Either that or he trusted her ability to handle anything these humans would throw at her. _Well_ , she thought, standing to dust off her bottom, _Nothing ventured nothing gained, right?_ Which was basically the story of her life. The doctor waited patiently for her to reach his side before he started talking again.

“Come on in,” he said, “there is much we can learn from each other, I think. Mr. Vegeta has requested that we provide the necessary resources to train you to speak and understand our language. I think it is a much more prudent arrangement If I take over the task completely since it seems you’re already halfway there… It’s baffling -just baffling how the brain works, isn’t it? ...I wonder whether I can create a receiver to receive, decode and maybe even replicate telepathic signals. After all, If I can design a device to pick up on the life energy transmitted by dragonballs, telepathic signals shouldn’t be that far off. It’s just about finding the right frequency this energy is resonating at…”

Bulma stopped trying to translate after a while and continued following the doctor into the compound. Not only was it a constant struggle to try and remember and convert his words into messages she could understand, trying to make sense of that message after its translation was another can of worms altogether. He was an interesting character, she later decided. A bit intimidating in his vast knowledge and uncanny ability to understand the most abstract of concepts, but he had pure intentions and a ditsy way about him which endeared him to her. That and the black thing called Kitty that was always attached to his shoulder for some reason. If she didn’t see it wonder around the house a few times during her stay she would have sworn the thing was a parasitic growth. She ended up spending her days in his laboratory with all sorts of strange devices attached to her, making strange beeping noises and showing unintelligible diagrams and squiggly lines on flat illuminated screens. All the while he would explain what test he was running to her and she would try her damnedest to make sense of it all, usually failing miserably. That’s when the reading started. At first it was a means to understand what was done to her, but as soon as she opened her first applied science textbook, she became addicted. Technology in the surface world followed a completely different set of rules of physics to that of the merworld and the more she learned, the more she wanted to know. Her speech came halting and stilted at first, but it was a necessary tool for communicating with everyone but Vegeta and Dr. Brief, and the doctor wasn’t always present to answer the many questions he had.

Has it only been two weeks? The mermaid thought flabbergasted. Vegeta gave her four in which to learn to communicate with the humans in their language. She had done that and so much more in half the time. Granted her speech wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t take her three seconds to process each sentence spoken to her. It was almost instant now, not completely natural but not as much of a strain on her brain either. Bulma glanced again at the book she set down: ‘Conceptual Physics Volume 3’ and reluctantly closed it to give her full attention to the woman standing in her doorway. She was carrying a tray. Upon it was an assortment of what humans refer to as ‘confectioneries’. Bulma’s mouth watered looking at them and she gladly admitted that of the many things surface dweller did better than mers - preparing food would be high up on that list. 

“I hope you were not too busy?” Ms Briefs asked in a roundabout way, a hopeful glint in her eyes. When Bulma shook her head ‘no’ Ms Briefs then took a relieved breath and entered the room, setting the tray on top of a low table in the middle of the floor called a coffee-table. 

“Good,” she stated “Honestly, these men! Always working so hard and then expecting their more delicate halves to be able to keep up with their grueling pace.” she started her usual chattering routine. “Why it’s all that Vegeta’s fault I say - always demanding this and that from the doctor and damned if that man doesn’t enjoy making all those thingamajigs for him, but then again, a body like the one Mr Vegeta has isn’t going to sculpt itself...” and like clockwork her face blushed a pretty pink and her hands flew to her cheeks in a halfhearted attempt to cover it. “Oh! What am I talking about -I’m a married woman!” she shouted and giggled shamelessly. Bulma couldn’t help but chuckle along. Somehow she always ended up saying that exact same line. Bulma had long since realised that while Ms. Briefs might not be so bright as to keep up with her genius husband, she was definitely his match when it came to being scatterbrained. She could easily keep up with his hopping from one topic of conversation to the next and sometime they’d find themselves conversing about completely different things altogether and not lose a beat as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Something that quite often left Bulma reeling in more than one instance. And as Dr. Brief’s leadership in the science wing was uncontested, so was his wife’s when it came to the domestic side of the compound. It baffled Bulma how both of them could be so ditsy yet so rigidly organised at the same time. Not a detail slipped through the many holes of their thought processes. It was quite something to behold.

“Enough about my misery, dear, how have you been?” she asked, taking a tart from the tray

“Tired mostly, but I’m coping.” she said. To be honest, Bulma was exhausted, although she had never made to do anything physically strenuous, she felt the passing of time with a little bit more strain each day. A long cold salt bath usually took the edge off each night, but Bulma suspected that her time away from the ocean had something to do with it.

“Poor dear, is my husband giving you a hard time? I told that man that he cannot keep you cooped up in that lab of his all day. You’ve been here all of two weeks and you haven’t once been to the mall -it’s a scandal I say. I would also be tired if I had to wear frumpy overalls every day.” 

As far as she knew, no one but Vegeta and Dr Briefs knew about her true form. As far as it concerns anyone else, she was merely a guest of the Briefs who had volunteered her ‘Psychic’ abilities for his latest project. Volunteered wasn’t even the right word, come to think of it, Dr Briefs insisted on paying her for her services since she was technically helping him create technology that was potentially worth millions. So besides a place to stay, she now had a sizable amount of money sitting in a bank account that was created for her. Her identity and other relevant documentation had also been taken care of. When Vegeta said these people had considerable influence, he wasn’t joking. He apparently had a similar arrangement with the good doctor -contributing his extraterrestrial expertise to the Air and Space R&D department of Capsule Corp. Thinking of the abominable Saiyan brought a little pang to her heart. She still saw him most evenings, but their interactions had a businesslike feel to them. He was either helping her with some of the subtleties of human speech or grilling her on her progress with her ki-control exercises. The underlying sexual tension was still present, but it went completely ignored by the surly Saiyan. What the Kelp was the man waiting for? Another invitation? It was beyond frustrating - especially since she now knew more about the courtship rituals (and mechanics) of land people thanks to the wonderful invention called a television. 

Bulma smiled, noting Mrs Briefs’ extravagant attire for the day. She was wearing a strapless pastel blue dress that hugged her upper body and poofed out at the waist. Bulma recognized the style as ‘50’s housewife’ from the human history programs she’s been watching. Bulma had recently been thinking about taking matters into her own hands with Vegeta to escalate things a bit. A trip to the mall might be exactly what she needs. After all, looking good is the first step of attracting male attention, even where she came from, and the right attire is the key. 

“The mall sounds like a great idea, Mrs. Briefs -I wouldn’t mind accompanying you on your next excursion.”

“Excursion! My goodness,” she laughed, “I can hear you’ve been hanging around scientists. Yes, I think the mall is just what you need -tomorrow at the latest! We will go in the morning; make a day of it. Oh and for goodness sake, Honey, call me Panchy. ‘Missus Briefs’ makes me feel old. ”

“I’ll inform the doctor of our arrangements” Bulma said smiling as she helped herself to one of the cakes on the platter.

When Bulma attempted to open her eyes the following day she was nearly blinded by the ambient light. She shut them immediately. It took her a few seconds to register the familiar voices speaking in her nearby vicinity, her mind had immediately focused on the scratchiness behind her lids and the pounding in her temples filtering out everything else until she gained lucidness. Bulma felt horrible.

“Bound to happen some or other time… all the foreign bacteria and viruses she was being exposed to in this new environment.” She recognized Dr Brief’s voice.

“Nonsense” the gruff voice of the Saiyan prince rang out in reply, “She’s been running around in the jungle for weeks on end and hadn’t picked up anything.”

“If she’s as resilient as you say she is, she will probably recover soon enough” Dr Briefs said again, his words followed by a cool sensation on her forehead. The throbbing in her head subsided almost immediately. She attempted to open her eyes again, blinking past the blinding white light until her ceiling swam into focus.

“Vegeta?” she called out, her voice raspy and her throat dry and burning.

“Woman, the doctor says you have fallen ill with some sort of human viral infection -one of the various strains of influenza.” Vegeta replied, moving into her line of sight. He was shirtless and sweaty again. His body was far superior compared to that of the human males she had come across during her short stay and she ogled his stacked chest shamelessly. He seemed to have come from straight training. _He really is a fine specimen of a male_ , she thought appreciatively and with no little regret, having just realized that her seduction plans would have to be put on hold… again, Bulma sighed, and then looked towards where the doctor stood at her left side. He was busy attaching a needle onto the tip of some plastic tubing. Bulma followed the tubing to a bag of clear liquid hanging from a metal pole.

“What’s up doc?” she joked, TV surely was an amazing tool, she thought and chuckled. The doctor's thick mustache twitched - his version of a smile.

“You seemed to be showing some symptoms of a common viral illness humans get from time to time. I’ve taken some of your blood for analysis to confirm this, but I believe the infection to be fairly harmless in the long term. Ms. Briefs attempted to raise you this morning but you wouldn’t wake up. You were thrashing about and seemed a bit delirious so she checked your temperature and called me. She told me you mentioned feeling tired yesterday. How long has this been going on?”

“About three days” she answered, recalling the first time she felt noticeably weary after a series of tests in the labs. “Usually a salt bath makes me feel better. To be honest, doc I always thought it had something to do with my staying out of the ocean.”

“The ocean, hmm? That is an interesting theory. A lowered immune system is what usually causes bouts of illness in humans, yours may indeed be attributed to your abstention from ocean water… never doubt the cues your body gives you.” He then swiftly, without much warning inserted the needle into her arm, the pinch of pain was sharp, but momentary. “This is just an electrolyte cocktail to keep you hydrated.” He stated by way of explanation before he got up from her side and proceeded to pace for a few steps. She watched him for a few seconds before exhaustion took over and she slipped back into sleep, her last memory being of Vegeta’s silent silhouette by her side, fading from view as she succumbed to unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Fun Fact: The Barreleye fish is a deep sea fish with a transparent luminescent face. It looks super weird - Google it.  
> Also, for those of you who don't remember Ray - he makes his first appearance in Chapter 3.


	11. Science Experiment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma becomes wrapped up in all the surface world has to offer and Vegeta doesn't like her shift in attention... at all. Sparks fly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forecast for this chapter: a light citrus drizzle.  
> Yes, there will be adult things happening here, as tensions between our two protagonist reach boiling point.

When Bulma woke again, it was dark outside her window. She could hear Cicadas chirping, along with the hum of the GT outside that had become strangely reassuring during her stay at Capsule Corp. _Influenza_ \- that’s what Vegeta said she had caught. It was her own fault, she conceded. She should have mentioned her deteriorating vitality sooner. On the plus side, she did feel much better at the moment. The headache and aches in her muscles were gone. The lethargy however, was still present. Her throat felt terribly dry and she looked around, catching sight of the glass of water someone must have left for her on her bedside table. She drained it in one go then slumped back into the blankets with a sigh, still feeling thirsty. Just as she was about to heave herself out of bed to go and refill her glass and empty her bladder, a knock sounded at her door. She bade whomever it was entrance and Dr Briefs walked in a moment later. He was carrying with him one of the flat screened electronic tablets that, besides his cat and his pipe, also seemed to be one of his constant companions.

“Good evening young lady. How’re you feeling?” he asked.

“Tired, but my head feels much better”

“Good, good…” he answered pleasantly, fingers swiping and tapping on his tablet screen. His brow furrowed as he seemed to consider the information there. “Well, it seems that you have indeed contracted influenza, but your vitals show you to be recovering nicely. I took the liberty of doing some further tests on the blood sample I took yesterday. Compared to data extracted from the sample you gave me two weeks ago when we started our experiments and then the following week, it does indeed seem that your immune system has been weakening at a steady rate. I’ve considered your theory that this may be caused by your continued abstention from seawater; and you were right: I’ve introduced a sodium compound similar to that of seawater to your blood sample and your white blood cells reacted immediately. It seemed to increase their ability to detect and eliminate the foreign influenza pathogen. It really is remarkable. Your body, even though its chemical make-up is currently similar to that of a human, still needs a high amount of sodium to function at its optimal condition. Now… with all that being said, If you’re feeling well enough to walk, I would like to show you something.”

Speech concluded, he stood and walked briskly from her room, pausing only to hold the door for her while she dragged her metal pole along on its wheels. Bulma couldn’t help but smile. Dr Briefs truly loved what he did for a living. Science was his passion. There wasn’t one day that went past that she hadn’t seen him excited about something his research had revealed to him. She admired that greatly. 

Thinking of her own former vocation, she couldn’t help but compare her own feelings towards what she did. She would always be immensely proud of what she accomplished for her people, but she didn’t love being a warrior the way Dr Briefs loved being a scientist. She loved the challenge of it all, though - training hard and developing her combat skills was something that brought her immense satisfaction. It was her cause however, that was her passion: the safety and security of her realm. This drive to protect the weak and defend her territory was not a natural inclination, however. It was beaten into her soul by the harsh reality of war and poverty. 

As a young princess, Bulma naturally adored the respect, praise and general high regard she received from all around her, and her tail color especially, made people respect her even more. She bore the three-shaded coloring of the Arowanian royal house. Blue for Justice and Strength. Green for Growth and Vitality and Purple for Wisdom and Nobility. She had always shown natural leadership qualities, her intelligence couldn’t be denied and even as a young mermaid and it was hoped that the green in her tail would indicate fertility when the time came. She had been a strong contender for the throne, before puberty hit and revealed that she wouldn’t be barring any little ones. Entering her teenage years, all the obligatory tail-kissing steadily began to lose its charm. Beginning to learn to distinguish actions from motives, Bulma quickly realized that all the praise and respect she received as a princess didn’t really mean anything because no one respected her as a person. Her worth would always be determined by her fertility status and her physical strength. If she could breed and was deemed strong, she became a candidate for the throne. If she was fertile and proved weak she became a bargaining chip, chattel used to tie another noble house to the royal line by marriage. If she was infertile then she became an ornament of the palace - always admired, but seldom handled. Her life had no real value but that that she gave it. It was detestable, and depressing, and completely unacceptable. As her adolescent period passed with no signs of fertility manifesting, Bulma actually felt relief. Yes she would no longer be deemed ‘important’ but at least she was freer that all her breeding sisters would ever be. Her life was her own, her future something she could decide on. And decide she did: she was not just some fragile beauty to be admired from afar. She was intelligent, capable and special. And she would make sure the whole realm knew it. 

That’s when she decided that she wanted to become an Arena Champion. The training was grueling and more often than not humiliating. She had to work extra hard to prove herself, to prove that she wasn’t just some prissy princess expecting the world to submit to her whims. She was determined and luckily had enough latent strength and an abundance of smarts to end up top of her class when training concluded. Her concern for the state of Queendom came only later in life, when she was stationed as a Gate guard on the outskirts of the Mammalian realm. Life in the military wiped away all sense of entitlement she was bred into and made her want to do something about all the atrocities she was witnessing. No one enjoys war, but when Bulma succeeded and excelled at it she felt passionate about what she achieved for the people she was fighting for, knowing that one more battle won is a remote village saved from slaughter and pillaging. 

It had been a long time since Bulma felt that way about what she did, she thought sadly. When she left her home, peace treaties were already being negotiated between the formerly warring Merraces. She had long since been promoted to Captain of the Queen’s Royal guard and had been spending her life formulating protocols and running drills with her soldiers. Things had become settled and was starting to turn stale. The adventurous warrior princess was itching for a new venture. 

Watching Dr Briefs work had sparked her curious nature once again. His constant narrative drew her in - prompting her to find out more, to better understand the world around her. Seeing what humans have accomplished with their world, with technology, and learning about Capsule Corps continuous contribution to that growth made her feel as if she could be a part of something big again. _Not just a part_ , the ambitious mermaid corrected mentally, _a pioneer_. If Technology is meant to destroy the world in two and a half years, and knowing your enemy is the key to victory, then it seems that the teal-haired warrior princess had a lot of studying to do if she wanted to be battle ready. 

Bulma continued to follow the Capsule Corp president down the familiar pathway towards his personal laboratories, a new proposal already taking shape in her mind: She would become his protege… his padawan. (Yes - she watched Star Wars. She couldn’t resist, with Vegeta being an alien and all that; and from what he told her about Freeza, she could definitely see a few similarities between the Galactic Overlord and the Emperor) 

Upon entering the lab however, she was more than a little sidetracked by the unfamiliarity of its setting. It had been completely rearranged. The place where the testing station, with its various equipment and machinery had once stood, now sported a giant cylindrical tank. She looked towards Dr Briefs - his mustache was stretched from ear to ear. 

“It’s the new testing facilities, outfitted for your convenience.” He grinned.

The tank stood from floor to ceiling and was easily half the circumference of her own room. In the center of the structure stood a pillar encircled by a table with electronic panels built into it. An array of screens, keyboards and various other user interface equipment were blinking with colorful lights at her and excitement stirred in her bones. She looked at Dr Briefs again, her expression a near mirror of his (the difference of course being the lack of mustache) and would have hugged him for his consideration.

“Before you paint me as some sort of saint I have to admit that the upgrades are not entirely for your benefit,” Dr Brief indicated sheepishly, scratching his mustache. “I was curious you see, of the effect your true form would have on your communication abilities.”

Bulma didn’t care. She wasn’t even surprised, really. He was a scientist first and foremostly, and will do as scientists do and question stuff… If Bulma wanted him to take her seriously as a potential apprentice in his field then she would have to prove her worth and intelligence to him. She decided to start right then.

“Ms Briefs couldn’t seem to pick up on my attempt to communicate with her, but she did pick up something...” Bulma reasoned. “It might be that air runs some sort of interference on the signal, generating noise that only people with sensitive receptors can filter. Like you… Have you ever considered that the reason you could hear me is because of your brain’s ability to process data discriminately?”

Dr Briefs looked taken aback for a moment, before his eyes lit up with delight.

“I see you’ve found my research paper on the correlation of IQ test results and brain activity, _and_ in addition to knowing somewhat about Signal Theory… I’m impressed. All this in a week?” 

“I was curious.” She grinned cheekily, “And you do have the most extensive library I’ve ever encountered” she praised, happy to have her efforts recognized for a change. When she tried to interact with the lab technicians like that she was usually - very politely - rebuffed. Almost as if they thought she didn't know what she was talking about.

“Well,” he continued, “If that’s the case I think it’s high time I evaluate your IQ too… mine was 203 just so you know.” He admitted with no little pride, “And yes, that was my exact theory - since studies have proven that people with higher IQ scores process sensory information differently, namely they can perceive and identify the movement of smaller, faster objects and filter larger and slower background motions. I hypothesize that I was thus able to detect and filter the telepathic signal you sent out. In other words my brain’s ability to be picky with what it processes implies it is very good at blocking out distraction, which in turn raises its efficiency. It also sometimes means I can be oblivious to the bigger picture, if you know what I’m saying.” he concluded, laughing. 

“Well then my dear? What are you waiting for?” he asked, gesturing to the tank. “I was unsure of what your marine form looked like so I didn’t really know what type of attire would be appropriate for swimming in. I left your armor in the changing stall in the back. You can go change if you like then I’ll proceed to explain this environment to you.”

There were many awesome features to the lab’s new addition. The best one being the ‘airfield hydra drone’. A device that instantly creates an air bubble around itself and by extension, anything it engulfs. It was created in the Air and Space department, according to Dr Briefs, and its design was based on alien technology salvaged from the spaceship that was destroyed by the time-traveler. The drone was actually meant to be used by the humans working in the tank, so they wouldn’t need a wet-suit to do routine maintenance. Bulma stepped through the airlock at the tank’s entrance. The chamber provided enough privacy for her to undress and don her chain mail unobserved. A big red button reading ‘Flood’ started blinking at her as soon as the automatic doors sealed behind her. Right next to it another big green button read ‘Drain’. Bulma pushed the red button as soon as she was suitably attired, and waited for the water to fill the chamber. 

The change into her true form took about a minute and was activated by the saltwater rushing into her lungs. There was always this momentary sense of panic she felt when the change started, triggered by her body’s inability to get oxygen. It lasted less than a minute, then her gills opened, filtering the oxygen from the salt water, the sensation as natural to her as it is for a human to breath air. Bulma got quite a thrill out of the lab technicians' reactions as they watched her emerge into the tank. They doubtlessly expected her to come walking through the airlock in one of the air bubbles. Dr Briefs sure had a wicked sense of humor, she thought with a chuckle, leaving them so unprepared. Many of them were frozen in shock. She saw one lady steadily pouring coffee on to the lab floor from the tilted cup in her hand and laughed. The awe and confusion clearly visible on their gawking faces was incredibly satisfying, but the moment was fleeting, because she was soon distracted by the control panel in the center of the tank and all the neat things she could do with it. 

Working long into the night, Bulma completely forgot about her nightly appointment with the Saiyan prince. It wasn’t until said Prince was standing on the other side of her tank, glowering at her that she noted the time. Bulma gave him a sheepish grin through the transparent glass and proceeded to make her way back to the airlock. Sitting on the dry floor at the door of the tank, Bulma waited for the change to complete, gulping large amounts of air through the gills at her ribs that had water spewing from her mouth in a very unpleasant manner. She felt the splits at her ribs shrink and seal, leaving the only pathway to her lungs through her mouth and nose. She watched, fascinated as the scales on her tail seem to shrivel up and shrink away, dissolving into seafoam on the floor leaving the soft smooth skin on her thighs; their only blemish being the raised skin on the sides of her legs that formed an intricate pattern of swirls that matched the pattern formed by her luminescent scales. The cartilage of her flukes shrunk to form tiny feet with cute pink toenails at its tip. Her new legs felt tingly and sensitive as it always did after its metamorphosis and she waited for the feeling to subside. Fully human again, Bulma stood and made her way to the door, laying her hand on its frosted glass pane and watched it slide open. Not even the surly expression of her would be lover could wipe the self satisfied grin off her face. She felt, as the humans like to say, like a million bucks again - all traces of her illness but a memory. _And now_ , she thought, a sly smirk blooming on her face, _operation seduce the Saiyan is back on the table._

“Hey Vegeta,” she said saucily, “enjoy the show?”

* * *

The Woman was really going to be the death of him! Making him wait an hour for her in her room, where she’s supposed to be ill and resting. Meanwhile she’s off playing science experiment with the elder Briefs - distracting the man from his primary objective: improving _his_ training equipment. That’s exactly what she is! He seethed, a distraction. That’s her essential function, it seems, to everyone. Does she not realize that if he cannot reach his full potential on Earth he would have to leave for the harsher environment of outer space? And then she has the nerve to greet him so nonchalantly provocative - with clingy transparent chain mail and dripping teal hair plastered to her breasts. He was of half a mind to throw her over his shoulder and fly her to his room. Then he’ll show her exactly what she could do with that unruly mouth of hers. 

...The other half of his mind, the more rational half, conceded that if he bedded her now he would never reach the optimal state of mind needed to achieve the legendary. He needed feelings of rage and desperation to fuel the transformation. Around her all he felt was lust, tenderness and contentment. Damn the woman. She was making him soft! If he was already struggling to control his thoughts, which seemed to always stray towards the blue-haired marine beauty during his idle moments, how much worse would it be if he actually got to act on all of his fantasies. 

Then again… maybe that is exactly what he needed to do to get rid of her distractions. The former half of his mind reasoned. If he got it out of his system, it would make concentrating on training that much easier. His rational mind, however, was not on board with this idea and was currently governing his actions. He squashed the temptation, appeasing himself with the promise of ‘later’ - after he achieved the Legendary, he decided, he will sate all his desires in her delectable body: as a reward. With his baser half sufficiently placated and his focus restored, Vegeta proceeded with his intended reproof. 

Grabbing her around the waist, he did indeed then throw her over his shoulder, enjoying her indignant squeak and resulting tongue-lashing as he took off. Her voice became more screechy the further he walked with her, and Vegeta suddenly regretted telling her to learn to speak. When his ears finally couldn’t take it anymore he set her down - none too gently, and she fell backwards on her ass. Vegeta’s smirk betrayed his amusement, which increased as she sprung up immediately afterwards and got right in his face, eyes flashing hotly with indignity.

“Why do you always do that!?” she shouted. He ignored her question.

“When we have a session scheduled, I expect punctuality, Woman.” he stated, unperturbed.

“I was working and lost track of time - give me a break for Neptune’s sake”

“Working...” he spat, coldly, “doing what exactly? Definitely not the ki-training you are supposed to be practicing. No, there’s plenty of time for sharpening such skills isn’t there? It’s not like the threat of doom is looming over you in less than three years.” Bulma heard the sarcasm clearly in his tone, but vocal communication wasn’t their original form of interaction. Therefore, it wasn’t his tone of voice that Bulma looked to for cues to his actual feelings, but their mental bond. She immediately picked up on the resentment he was blanketing with his sarcasm. The revelation instantly cooled her ire.

“What is your problem, Vegeta?” she asked softly this time, then switching to telepathy added ‘I am helping Dr. Briefs with his research, same as you are when you field test his inventions. You told me to treat them with grace’ she reminded him.

‘Please woman, if helping were all you were doing you wouldn’t be progressing so slowly in your ki-manipulation. Do you think I'm an imbecile? You’re devoting all your spare time into studying these humans and their ways - and why the hell do you need to know so much about what Briefs is doing all the time?’

‘You act as if I’m doing something wrong.’

‘You’re constantly kissing his ass with your scientific anecdotes and questions, fishing for praise and acknowledgement. It’s pathetic - it’s beneath you! What exactly are you trying to accomplish, Bulma? You should be focusing on your training.’

‘Oh sweet Neptune! Again with the focusing on training - you sound like.. like… a broken record. My progress is my own and I will train as I see fit. You know, I think I know what your problem is. You want me to isolate myself the way you do so that I don’t form any relationships with anyone else but you… You’re jealous Vegeta, that I’m not devoting all my time and attention to you anymore.’

Vegeta’s eyes widened a fraction, before threw back his head and burst out laughing. Bulma’s confident smirk faded from her face as he said:

“Get over yourself, Woman! You think you mean that much to me?” This time his tone of voice and thoughts were completely synchronized: sadistic delight. Vegeta’s mean streak has finally reared its ugly head and at that moment she knew exactly how his billions of victims felt staring into the cold black pits of his eyes: more worthless than the dirt on his boots. She was just about to reprimand herself for her own stupidity of choosing a genocidal bastard to care about. He clearly didn’t give two kelps about her other than what he could get out of her body, but then she saw something in his eyes. A crack in the vicious mercenary facade he was currently wearing. His mind opened up a fraction and revealed the wounded pride that prompted this hurtful lashing out. Bulma may have gotten a slight glimpse into the reasons for his hurtful words, but that doesn’t mean that she would tolerate his behavior. No more creeping around the issues at hand, Bulma thought. It’s time to lay it all out.

“Yes” she finally answered, straightening her spine to look him dead in the eyes. “Yes, I think that. And that’s why I’m calling Bullshit. I think I mean more to you than you want me to know, than you even care to admit, and your fight or flight instinct is kicking in, isn’t it? You can’t run from it, now you’re trying to push me away.”

Not meeting her eyes, he replied “You’ve been watching those stupid soap operas with the Briefs woman haven’t you? You’ve deluded yourself into thinking I have a heart whole enough to care for you. I assure you woman - that will never be the case. My heart is black as night. The most you will get out of me is a few nights of pleasure… Unimaginal pleasure” he suddenly emphasised, voice deepening into sultry tones.

Seeing the opening she desired, Bulma smiled slyly. Slowly, she reached out to his face and grabbed his chin, tilting his face to hers (having seen this move on one of those aforementioned ‘stupid soap operas’) and stepped into his body until they stood chest to chest. Lazily, she dropped her arms over his shoulders in a loose embrace and spoke into his lips:

“Unimaginable, huh? My, aren’t we cocky tonight”

Vegeta didn’t want to fall into her trap, but her eyes were drawing him in and the taste of her breath was intoxicating. Her words and the spicy scent of her arousal seemed to hit him all at once and his rational mind watched helplessly as his self serving instinct driven side took over. Hands folding around her to cup the curves of her voluptuous bottom, a husky chuckle preceded his reply,

“Cocky, Woman? You don’t know the half of it. Shall I enlighten you?” he whispered, pulling her tightly into him to emphasize his meaning. 

Lust washed over her, stronger than she’s ever felt before. His words, whispered in that gravely huskiness so unique to him, caused the most intense of changes in her body. Her skin felt sensitive and tingly, her knees were weak and her core throbbed with heat. There was no backing off now, she thought, no more fear. This time she was ready to commit. She caught sight of his lips and her mouth watered, having seen the passionate kisses human share. She wanted one too, and tilted her mouth up to his, licking her lips to moisten them. The only thing stopping her from attacking his mouth was uncertainty. She’s never kissed someone before. How does she go about it? 

Vegeta stood like a deer caught in headlights, he knew that if he started something now he wouldn’t be able to stop. His rationality was putting up the fight of its life, but was fast losing to the allure of Bulma’s puckered wet lips. Seeing her catch that pouty lower lip in her teeth was the last straw and before he knew it, his mouth was on hers and he was prying that bottom lip from her teeth with gentle suction, her resulting moan drove him further off the deep end. With the tip of his tongue he licked the seam of her mouth, silently begging for entrance. And when she gave it with the parting of her lips, he wasted no time plundering. He licked into her mouth, caught her tongue and sucked voraciously, drowning in a lust filled haze. With his hands already filled with luscious ass, it was quick work for him to reach down further to the parting of her smooth thighs and hitch her up, and, smart girl that she was, Bulma quickly wrapped her legs around his waist. As if by instinct, her hips started gyrating, riding the ridge pressed into the juncture of her thighs and Vegeta reacted instantly, spinning them around to press her back against the domed wall of the compound. His body was on autopilot as he grinded back, reacting to her movements as he catered to both their pleasure. The sexual frustration that he kept tightly leashed these last few weeks came bursting out of him like a ki-attack. His senses were suddenly overwhelmed by her: the helpless mewling spilling from her lips, the musky scent of her desire, the delicious friction of her heated core grinding all over his hardness. It was suddenly too much and he panicked, realizing that he wouldn’t last carrying on in this manner. He needed to set her down or risk embarrassing himself. Reluctantly separating their lips, Vegeta looked around long enough to ascertain the direction of his balcony. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right he decided with no little pride. As he was about to make the leap, a presence appeared off to his side.

“Hey Vege-ooh” Kakarot’s appearance was about as effective as a bucket of ice water dumped on his head. Bulma let go of his shoulders the same time his hands flew from her naked ass and with a yelp she ended up on said ass again. Having the presence of mind to shut her legs, as she spied the orange-gi wearing Saiyan standing before her. Luckily his head was turned the other way, a blush staining his cheeks.

“Kakarot you imbecile!” Vegeta scolded, his face probably the same shade as his nemesis’.

Goku chuckled nervously, glancing at Vegeta and then quickly at Bulma before looking off to the side again. “Sorry for interrupting, Vegeta” he started, fidgeting with the tie of his gi. “I uh… wanted to invite Bulma - and you of course - to the barbecue we’re having on Kame-island this weekend. Bulma hadn’t met the rest of the team yet.” he stated by way of explanation.

Bulma, having gotten over the worst of the embarrassment faster than the Saiyans standing before her, was more clear headed than they were and therefore caught the anomaly in Kakarot’s request.

“Kakarot, how do you know my name?” she asked - her brows furrowed in confusion. Kakarot’s eyes widened comically as if he made some mistake.

“I.. uh… uhm… Ms. Briefs told me when I visited the other day.” he stammered.

“You were never here during the time she’s been here, you fool.”

“Pretty sure I was. Anyway, I can see you’re busy. I’ll come back tomorrow to find out about the barbecue.” He was gone before they could get another word in.

After he left there was nothing to do but stare awkwardly at one another. With Vegeta’s rational side firmly back in control of his body, he felt it necessary to lay down the lines before anything else happens.

“You’re distracting the doctor from his attending to my training needs - that is the problem that I have with your work with him.” He said, his hormones seemingly back under his control. Bulma seemed a bit confused with the subject matter, before her eyes widened in understanding. She decided to reward his honest admission with her own truth:

“I know you think that I don’t view the fate of the Earth with due seriousness. I can assure you, I do. Androids are coming to lay waste to this planet’s population, but I’m not deluding myself into thinking I have the brute force needed to make a difference. I’m leagues beneath you when it comes to physical strength. I know that now… If I am to have any effect on this planet’s fate it’ll not be due to using my fists. Do you know what made me the greatest warrior of my race Vegeta? It wasn't because I was the strongest, physically - although I am quite strong, but it was because of my ability to outwit my enemy in every turn…

“So if you’re asking me to discontinue my work with Dr Briefs the simple answer is no. It’s as you said - I’m not meeting my end at the hands of a bunch of machinery in three years time. I’ll use my strongest asset - my mind - and I’ll destroy them as I have all the idiots who’ve ever dared to take on the Bull Shark of the Mer realm. I’ll leave the punching to you.” She ended, a sheepish grin on her face.

Vegeta remained silent afterwards, seemingly contemplative.

“Very well then Woman.” he finally said, “You do as you see fit to be ready for the androids when they arrive. I shall do the same. ” she was about to nod in acknowledgement, when he uttered the next part. “I do not feel it advantageous to my quest for achieving the Legendary to bed you at this time.” and with a smirk, he added, “you’ll have to wait until I’ve achieved it before you can have that privilege.”

If Bulma had her trident she would have speared him with it.. 

He leapt into his room via his window, missing Bulma’s parting words of:

“If you think you’ll get away with leaving me hanging like this, Vegeta Prince of Saiyan, you have another thing coming.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In hindsight... I feel this chapter was a bit all over the place but I don't really know what to do with it to make it less... chaotic.  
> So I'm leaving it as is.


	12. Kame Island

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma is frustrated at Vegeta's avoidance of her and concocts a plan to break the stalemate.  
> When she meets the rest of the Z-gangs, she chooses a target to put her scheming into action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi folks, the weekend was too busy for me to update.   
> I'll continue my regular daily updates from here on out.

A knock on Bulma’s door started her out of her studies. It was Ms. Briefs, coming to collect her for their shopping trip. The barbecue was the next day and Ms. Briefs insisted that she needed ‘beach wear’. Bulma was more of a mind that she should be getting ‘bedroom’ wear, sexy enough to knock that pigheaded Saiyan off his high horse. He completely closed himself off from her - emotionally and mentally. Bulma didn’t really understand what he was trying to prove, but if he was going to be an ass about it then Bulma would do everything she could to break his stubborn resolve, hence: the need for lingerie. However, Ms. Briefs assured her that the right bikini can have the exact same effect on a man than a pair of racy underwear does without having to seem desperate, so Bulma agreed to get them instead.

The new addition to the lab kept her busy for three days with the doctor, they made all sorts of interesting discoveries. In her true form, her telepathic voice could clearly be picked up by normal humans, but only those in the tank with her. In addition, her voice had a hypnotic effect on the submerged subjects, which caused amnesia immediately after they returned to outside the tank. Another discovery was that telepathic signals cannot travel through the glass of the tank, which presented quite a problem to say the least. Then there was her IQ test results. 

Bulma’s IQ test results scored her at 212 on the Spatial intelligence test - 9 points higher than Dr. Briefs. Other tests also proved a higher than average score on Bodily kinesthetic and Interpersonal intelligence tests. Dr. Briefs explained that these scores prove an aptitude in applied sciences and physical training as well as an aptitude for influencing people. The latter two Bulma could understand, as her military rank was a testament to them, but the former, highest aptitude was a pleasant surprise. More so to Dr. Briefs who was both delighted and disconcerted that her mind was being grossly underutilized in the scientific field. He immediately registered her for various online engineering courses and Bulma had been dividing her time between studying and lab experiments ever since. Her other training went all but forgotten.

Vegeta wasn’t happy about it, but with a shrug, Bulma admitted that Vegeta wasn’t happy about a lot of things. 

Bulma was dressed in the Capsule Corp brands, wearing a red short halter dress, a red-yellow and black printed bomber jacket with a CC patch on it’s breast-pocket and a pair of pointed brown boots in soft leather. The items were all bought in Panchi’s boutique inside the part of the compound that was open to the public. As far as clothing goes, it wasn’t bad at all, being that it was currently trending in all the major fashion circles. Ms Briefs, however insisted that she needed to be exposed to all the ‘big brands’, found in the mall, so off she went, dragging a confused Bulma with her in her red convertible hover-car. Panchi's designer clothes were known to be an international brand and not ‘small’ in any sense, but Bulma had decided that it’s always best just to humor Ms. Briefs since she more often than not had her own unique way of reasoning.

“What about this one? You do look so fabulous in red.” Ms. Briefs was holding up a red bikini set, with white polka-dots and a bow that tied between one’s breasts and on the hips of the bottoms.

“Yes” Bulma answered without hesitation. Ms. Briefs squealed in delight and added it to the pile. This was the third swimsuit she had acquired since they entered the mall. Bulma cringed, recognizing the start of an addiction.

“Alright, we have swimsuits, wraps, sunglasses, hats and flip flops. What do you think we should shop for next?”

“Jewelry” stated the mermaid, and Ms Briefs smiled brightly.

“A girl after my own heart.” she said cheerily and led Bulma to a new store.

Looking at the many jewelry pieces, Bulma was forced to admit that, compared to the craftsmanship and resources of her home world, human jewelry was far inferior. She suddenly wished for the breast cover she had bought on that last day in her own city - the one stolen from her. The domes of silver that covered her breasts were embedded with threads of crystal and pearls in diagonal waves. Where the embedded stones ended at the bottom of the silver plates, more threads started and dangled down her stomach from the edge of her breasts to her bellybutton in a V-shape. It was a work of art and not one of the pieces in the human stores even came close to its magnificence, Bulma thought sadly.

Mermaids didn’t need much in terms of clothing, having the need to keep their glowing scales uncovered in the darkness of their habitat, therefore all their craftsman's efforts at catering to feminine vanity often went into creating jewelry to adorn the natural beauty of lumo-patterns. Bulma ended up settling for a silver ruby-encrusted belly-chain and matching belly-ring to complete her beach ensemble. Back at the compound, the ladies parted before Bulma’s room. Ms Briefs offered Bulma a quick kiss to the cheek, whispering a parting word of advice to the frustrated mermaid. Frustration that had its stem from none other than the surly Saiyan across the hall from her, who had outright refused to accompany her to the barbecue.

_ Well _ , Bulma thought the next afternoon, smirking at her reflection in the full-length mirror,  _ not if I have anything to do with it _ . So taking Panchi’s advice Bulma proceeded to make her way to the Gravity Trainer. 

“Vegeta?” She called, knocking at the door. A series of bangs and whooshes was her only reply. She tried again, knocking louder and waiting a few more seconds. The gravity room powered down and moments later, the door slid open to reveal a bare chested and slightly bruised Vegeta. He took one look at her attire and his eyes flew wide with shock. Bulma mouth twitched, but she resisted showing how pleased she was by his reaction. Before he could get a word in Bulma announced.

“I’m leaving soon. Are you sure you don’t want to accompany me?”

“Woman!” he sputtered, “just what the hell do you think you’re wearing?”

“Beachwear” she stated coolly.

She saw his first clench and sensed the frustration coming off him in waves. He took a deep breath, which seemed to calm him somewhat before he continued:

“You have no idea of the kind of people who inhabit that island. Your clothing is entirely inappropriate.”

“You’re right - I don’t know them, but from what I’ve observed I look just like any other human who plans on visiting the ocean so I don’t see any problem.” 

“Woman, obey me in this sense and go and put on something more concealing.” he stated, still attempting to be calm. The pompous prince really should not have been surprised by her answer. But, not used to having his orders denied, his eyes all but bugged out when she answered in a resounding "No"

“I don’t feel like doing you any favors. If you insist on leaving me to my own devices, you have no say on what I do once I’m there.” she said with huffed, crossing her arms beneath her chest. She noted his gaze dart to her chest and suppressed a self-satisfied smirk.

“Bulma-” he warned, to which she calmly turned her back on him and walked back into the compound - the milky skin of her butt on display for the world to see in a tiny red and white polka-dotted bikini. 

“Wait...” he said, to which she paused and peeked over her shoulder at him. Vegeta clenched his teeth, and growled “I’ll come along.”

Her smile was blinding. She reached into the cloth bag hanging at her side to withdraw a piece of cloth, watching him stew in indignation as she folded the fabric around her to form a wrap dress. His eyes widened as her manipulation was revealed and she grinned deviously. 

Step 1: accomplished, Bulma thought with a sneaky smile.

“...And just how exactly were you planning on attending this event without even knowing where the island is located?” Vegeta seethed a little later, Bulma resting happily in his arms while he flew at a moderately fast pace to the intended rendezvous.

“To be honest I was actually just counting on you to submit to my will and take me there.” she stated plainly. Vegeta sighed.

“You are shameless.”

“Only when it comes to getting what I want out of you.” was her reply. Vegeta, stiffened, catching the double entendre in her tone. Catching her eyes, he couldn’t miss the mischievous twinkle there. Averting them to avoid getting sucked in again, Vegeta changed the subject.

“You should be putting more effort into your energy and physical training - I can’t fly you around forever.”

“There are only so many hours in a day here on the surface - I can’t do it all!” Bulma replied in exasperation.

“Flying is an essential skill, Woman. Make learning it a priority.”

The rest of the trip was made in silence.

_ It’s pink _ was the first thing that went through Bulma’s mind upon landing on Kame Island. The island itself wasn’t much - an oasis would better describe her location. A single double story pink wooden house was the only notable structure that stood on it and could be identified from miles away. Bulma hadn’t had time to form more than that impression of the place before the other guests made themselves known.

“What’s Vegeta doing he-” an unfamiliar hostile sounding voice was cut short, preceded by the appearance of a tall man in a orange gi - much like that of Kakarot’s. He had a cross-shaped scar on his cheek and one across his brow on the opposite side of his face. Said face had been fierce when noting Vegeta, but became instantly slack-jawed upon locking eyes with her, which it seemed caused the interruption of his hostilities towards Vegeta. The scar faced human was quickly surrounded by the rest of his friends, which consisted of a short bald-headed man with six dots on his forehead wearing the same orange outfit, a skinny, grey-bearded, bald old man in sunglasses, an extremely white child with red cheeks and lastly, a tall, bald man with three eyes. Bulma also noticed a small blue cat-bear-thing floating at the scar-faced man’s shoulder and a turtle crawling closer to investigate the commotion. Trying to hide her amusement at the unusual group, Bulma bowed low with her hands clasped in front of her, recalling the etiquette of human culture. She didn’t notice the widening male eyes all around as it pushed her breast together.

“My name is Bulma. Kakarot invited me. Nice to meet everyone.” 

Raising her head again, she was instantly face to chest with the old man in sunglasses.

“Well hello there sweet cheeks. It’s very nice to meet the two of you as well.” he said, lowering his glasses. His words confused Bulma at first. She looked to Vegeta, wondering if it was the first time he was being introduced to the team too, when she noted the angry tick in his jaw. She followed his annoyed glare back to the old man whose eyes were still glued to her chest. With shock Bulma realized which ‘two’ he’d been referring to. Shock, however, was quickly replaced by indignation.

_ The dirty pervert _ . Bulma seethed, good first impression all but flew out of the window as the outraged mermaid flared her energy, creating a gust of wind that knocked the lecherous old man into the air and onto his head.

‘I told you your clothing was inappropriate for this bunch of lowlifes, Woman.’ Vegeta’s voice trickled into her mind. After three days of silence from him, she really wished his first mental communication with her wasn’t accompanied by a smug ‘I told you so’ tone. Deciding to ignore the gloating Saiyan, Bulma turned her attention back to the rest of the assembled group with ‘not impressed’ written all over her face.

The olive branch - as the humans called it - was extended by the short bald one. He chuckled nervously, rubbing his hairless head with one hand before stepping forward.

“Nice to meet you too Bulma. Sorry about our master - he’s a little out of control when it comes to women, please forgive his forward behavior. I wish I could say it won’t happen again, but I can’t. Goku’s wife usually brings her cooking pan along to keep him in check.” he laughed before adding, “My name is Krillin. Welcome to Kame-island.”

Not really getting the joke, Bulma glared at a contrite looking old man sitting in the sand, nodding stiffly in acceptance before relaxing marginally.

After that, amiable introductions were made all around. The scar-faced one was called Yamcha. His blue companion (who it turns out can talk) was named Puar. The turtle was just called Turtle - he could talk too much to Bulma’s amazement. The triclops was Tien, and the child was Chiaotzu. The pervert was called Master Roshi. The island belonged to him. Go figure. Besides the old man, the child and the talking animals, the people before her were all strongly built - even the short one and Bulma wondered how strong they all actually were. They all seemed to be giving Vegeta a wide berth, even though they were currently fighting on the same side and Bulma recalled that Vegeta had killed quite a few of these warriors upon arriving on this planet. Despite being wished back with the Dragon Balls, it seemed bad blood still still existed between the Saiyan Prince and Earth’s fighting force. It’s probably to be expected, Bulma admitted. Old battles aren’t that easily forgotten. Vegeta seemed confident enough though, in his own strength so Bulma wasn’t really worried. 

Small talk was quickly initiated as the group gravitated towards the grill.

“So, Bulma, where are you from?” Krillin asked. 

“I currently reside in Capsule Corp, along with Vegeta. I’m helping doctor Briefs with some of his research.” she replied.

“No way, you two live together?” This was Yamcha, referring to Vegeta. “How can you stand it?” his tone was laced with disgust. Bulma frowned, disconcerted, and turned to look for Vegeta, starting to understand his reasons for not wanting to come. She found him sitting with his back to a palm tree, staring at the surf. Next to him was a figure she hadn’t noticed until then. With leaf green skin and prominently pointed ears, he was easy to miss among the island’s sparse greenery. He was wearing a white turban and cape and was busy levitating a few inches off the ground with his eyes closed.

“Who’s that?” she asked instead, deciding to ignore Yamcha and his open hostility towards Vegeta. She didn’t fault him for his malice, but that didn’t mean she had to like it either. 

“Oh, that’s Piccolo” Krillin answered. “He comes from the planet Namek. He’s also one of Earth’s warriors… Well, he is now. Before the Saiyans arrived he wanted to kill Goku as badly as Vegeta does. Would you believe that most of us here started off as Goku’s enemies yet somehow we all ended up fighting by his side. It’s the darndest thing.” he noted.

It really was, Bulma agreed. From her point of view it seemed like Kakarot - or Goku rather - brings out both the worst and the best in people. Quite an interesting character indeed. Seeing an opportunity, Bulma asked:

“What about you, Yamcha? Did you want to kill Goku too?”

“Uh…” he stuttered, “Well, technically I guess you can say that. I was a desert bandit before I met Goku and I attacked him. Knocked him out too.” he said with no little pride.

“And Tien?”

“Tien used to be an assassin, but he only planned to kill Goku during the 21st World Martial Arts Tournament. He changed his mind when he met him, though.”

“You seem to bear no ill will against Tien, though. I find that a tad hypocritical”

Yamcha seemed confused. “What are we talking about?”

“I’m just saying that if all of you, at some point in time were enemies of Goku, who’s always been some sort of hero from what I’ve gathered. You should - how do you humans say - cut some slack to those who are newly turned allies. Glass houses and all..” 

“...Glass houses? What? Humans? Wait - you’re not human?”

“Oh Neptune, I can see you’re not too bright so let me put this plainly.” she said, her tone darkening, “Lay off Vegeta - he’s training to save all of your asses in two and a half years time. You should be grateful instead of sending him pissy glares every few seconds.”

At this point she was full up in his face and his eyes were saucers. The gathered group had gone dead silent and Vegeta was at her side, arms crossed and a cool smirk on his face.

“Don’t waste your breath, Bulma. The opinions of these imbeciles mean nothing to me. Now, if you're done antagonizing our allies - pathetic as they may be - we can leave at any time.”

Krillin was the first to snap out of his stupor. He did this by punching Yamcha in the arm.

“Your hospitality skills suck, dude” he griped before turning to Bulma. “You’re right, of course. Those with glass houses shouldn’t throw stones. We all were, at one point in Vegeta’s gold-tipped boots so to say, so we really have no right to treat Vegeta like an outcast because of past behavior. You don’t have to leave. Goku invited you for a reason - you obviously know about the androids so I’m guessing you’re training for their arrival too. It’s important to know your allies. Stay.”

“Speak for yourself” this time it was Tien who piped up. Yamcha was staring at the ground, looking suitably embarrassed. “Vegeta’s past has nothing to do with our hatred of him. The guy’s still a major dick -  _ and _ he still wants to kill Goku.”

“You wouldn’t know a major dick if it were staring you in the face.” Vegeta shot back tauntingly, before turning a suggestive eye on Chiaotzu.

“Why should we show any kindness to someone who’d never return the favor” said Chiaotzu at Tien’s side.

“Yeah!” Yamcha jumped in as well. Bulma was just about to take Vegeta up on his offer and leave. Certain that she probably ruined the party for everyone when Krillin jumped in too.

“Hey now wait a minute! First of all - so what if Vegeta wants to kill Goku? You all know Goku - he would probably welcome the challenge. I swear that guy isn’t really satisfied if someone out there isn’t trying to kill him.” This invoked a reluctant chuckle from Yamcha. Tien just sniffed grudgingly.

“Secondly, I’m sure all Bulma was trying to say is that we should stop treating Vegeta like a pariah, regardless of how you feel about him we’re still on the same side, right Bulma?” he then asked her. 

Bulma, long since exasperated with this argument, just nodded her acceptance. 

“So will you stay then? I know we all got off on the wrong foot here, but we’re really not that bad. Stick around and you’ll see. You did come all the way.”

Sighing, Bulma nodded her assent once more. Reluctantly curious about this group of ramshackle fighters. To Vegeta, she silently sent.

‘He’s right you know: these are my allies and I need to know the mettle of the men I’m fighting with if it ever comes to that… I think I should stay.’

‘Suit yourself’ was his abrupt reply before he returned to his seat next to the floating green man from Namek, joining him in his meditation.

“So,” Bulma started, after the awkward silence seemed to stretch on a bit too long for her liking, “Where is Kaka- I mean Goku?”

“Late, as usual” Yamcha said with a good natured laugh. “How did you meet him? I’m always amazed at the type of people Goku seems to befriend at the oddest of places.”

“Oh.. he just kind of appeared in front of me.” This was received by chuckles all around.

“Yeah,” Krillin said “he does that lately. Caught me on the john once.” more laughs.

“He showed up in the shower at my place” Yamcha confessed with a look of horror on his face. 

“He really has this uncanny ability of showing up at the worst moments” Krillin said and Bulma blushed remembering how true that statement was. 

A few more ticks of silence were broken again by Yamcha.

“Hey Bulma, can I ask you something?”

“You just did” Bulma deadpanned.

“Oh… anyway, I was wondering,” he hesitated, “what you meant when you referred to us as ‘you humans’? Are you not human?”

The three of them were sitting in beach chairs, Krillin and Yamcha each had a beer in their hands and Tien and Chiaotzu were at the grill taking care of a giant roasting fish and chatting cheerily. Yamcha’s question seemed to catch their attention too for they were also suddenly watching her keenly. Bulma cleared her throat, suddenly uncomfortable.

“I’m a mermaid.” she confessed. This was followed by Yamcha snorting beer from his nose. 

“Seriously?” Krillin asked, his beer had luckily been a safe distance from his mouth when Bulma stated her confession.

“Yeah” she answered.

“So you’ll sprout a tail if you hit the ocean now?” 

“More or less” she nodded. 

“Neat.” he said, watching her with new appraisal. Yamcha, too was looking at her differently, once he had done all he could do to fix his beer-stained clothes.

“I really wouldn’t mind seeing that '' she heard Roshi’s voice. Bulma sat up, curious as to where it was coming from. The perverted martial arts master had been curiously missing since their first unpleasant encounter. Looking around, Bulma caught a glint of something shiny from a bush on the far side of the tiny island and her eyes narrowed skeptically. An unpleasant shiver made its way down her spine, prompting her to go and investigate the disturbance. She didn’t take two steps when she noted two figures dash from behind the suspect bush, running for the house. One was obviously Roshi and the other looked like; and Bulma shook her head slightly to ascertain that her eyes were indeed seeing what she thought they were: a pig... in clothes. 

_ What? _

As they dashed for the house Bulma spotted a mysterious black object flying in the opposite direction and land in the sand. She immediately went to retrieve it, finding it to be a pair of binoculars once she reached its location. Seething inside at the implication of her find, it took a great amount of control to do what she did next.

“Hey Master Roshi, I think you forgot your goggles” she said in the cheeriest voice she could muster, trying to channel Panchi, and stood waiting with a pleasant smile on her face while the sly sensei slinked from his hiding place. When he was close enough, she reached to offer him his binoculars, watching evilly as he reached back. Before his hopeful face, she squeezed, crushing the item in her fist and dropped the pieces into the waiting master’s hand, still with a bright smile on her face. This time her delight was genuine as she watched the fat tears run down Roshi’s face. 

“Those were my best pair...” he muttered tearfully. In her peripheral she caught movement and turned to see the pig, his hand stretched out sorrowfully towards the heap of broken binoculars.

“Who's your friend Roshi - he looks delicious. Gonna pop him on the grill too?” she asked evilly

He really did pop then, much to Bulma’s surprise, into a cloud of smoke. When the smoke cleared he was gone and Bulma saw the tail end of a retreating snake.

Bulma looked, wide eyed to where Krillin and Yamcha sat - holding their stomachs as they laughed. Her confusion must have shown because Krillin managed to wheeze out: “shapeshifter” before exploding into more laughter.

“That was Oolong” Krillin said later, once he got his breath back… “and not to mention hilarious. I don’t think even Chichi had the sense to wound him as thoroughly as you did just now. She usually just whacks him with her wok.”

“Thank you” Bulma said proudly before adding “Who’s Chichi?”

“Goku’s wife”

“Oh”

“You’ll meet her soon, I think. I sense Goku and Gohan approaching from the East. They’re flying relatively slow so that must mean Chichi is with them.”

“And Gohan is...” she prompted.

“Goku’s son, cute little tyke and really strong too.” 

“I didn’t know Goku has a family.” she said softly.

“Yeah, one wouldn’t immediately assume just looking at him, more so if you actually know him. We were quite surprised when he showed up on the island one day with four year Gohan. We didn’t even believe he knew what sex was. Last time I was aware, he thought marriage was some kind of food.” Krillin laughed, a tinge of red on his cheeks. Bulma decided that she liked him. He was kind and sweet and surprisingly humble - not at all what she’d come to know of warriors. It was a pleasant surprise. Marron would adore him. She thought, with a sad pang in her heart. She missed her twin. It’s probably why she took so quickly to Ms. Briefs. They are very alike. Quickly as the thought came she banished it once again. Bulma was sure that she would be reunited with her family and friends someday again, but until the threat of the androids had passed she couldn’t indulge any thoughts of them. She would go crazy if she did.  _ Focus on one mission at a time, Bull Shark _ . She reminded herself before settling back into the present. 

The day was still long and there was still ‘Step 2’ of Seduce the Saiyan to attend to. Looking around, Bulma assessed the potential subjects to the next step in her plan.

It couldn’t be Krillin - she liked him too much.

Tien was too aloof…

Yamcha. She caught his eyes and found him staring at her. He quickly looked away - a blush forming on his cheeks: perfect.

With practiced grace Bulma shrugged out of her wrap dress, revealing the polka-dotted bikini underneath.

“Hey Yamcha,” she said, sauntering over to his side. “I feel like doing some tanning. Would you oil me up please?” The tomato faced man nodded mutely and Bulma smirked slyly.  _ Let’s see how long you’re able to resist me after this, Saiyan _ . She thought, pointedly not looking in his direction. She did however pick up when his temper started to simmer.


	13. Meet the Sons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma puts her plan into action, but things hardly go as anticipated.  
> She meets Goku's family for the first time and the two fiery females clash.

“So Bulma,” Yamcha started, a nervous tremor in his voice. Having led the scar-faced warrior to the nearby tanning chair with a bottle of oil in hand, Bulma now waited patiently for him to apply it on her offered back.

“What uhm…” he continued “I’ve never met a mermaid before. To be honest I always thought they were mythical… stupid really when I’ve seen so many strange and magical creatures already.” The man had yet to touch her back, fidgeting with the bottle of tanning oil instead and Bulma couldn’t help be amused at his discomfort. “What I’m trying to ask is, are you the only mermaid around or do more of your kind live on land?”

“Why do you want to find more of my kind, Yamcha? Am I not pretty enough for you?” she mock scolded, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously.

“No, no!” he shouted, waving his hands defensively which caused the bottle to fly from his grip. It took real effort not to laugh at the poor guy. She must really intimidate him, she thought with a swell of vanity. She watched him retrieve the bottle, taking a quick glance at Vegeta as Yamcha’s back was turned. If looks could kill, Bulma thought, Yamcha would be a pile of ash. Although, she didn’t think  _ she _ would fare much better she conceded with a cringe, averting her eyes from his burning glare. Nevertheless, Ms. Briefs’ plans and haven’t failed her yet so she would persevere, she decided stubbornly. 

_ “Men become complacent when they know there’s no competition. Introduce a little healthy competition and you’ll see him respond in no time _ …” were her exact words. So when Yamcha returned she decided to spice things up by untying the halter ties of her bikini top, holding the cups to her breast to bare only her back.

“I think you’re very beautiful,” Yamcha blurted upon his return and the mermaid preened, “I just wondered why this is the first time I’ve come across your kind.”

He then finally did manage to put the oil on her back. His touch seemed to match the tone of their conversation: nervous and hesitant, and when he seemed to try and finish as quick as possible, Bulma sighed in exasperation. 

“Tie for me?” she offered next, referring to her loosened top. That too he did with minimal skin contact and an audible gulp.  _ Maybe he needs some more time to loosen up _ , Bulma surmised. 

Deciding that a story would be the perfect distraction to his skittish behavior, Bulma lay back on the tanning chair and started her narrative.

“As far as I know, I’m the only one of my kind to have reached the surface in almost three hundred years. That’s when venturing to the surface became illegal for us. I don’t know whether any of my kind followed me here… I don’t even know if it's possible with the dragon guarding the way here.”

“What dragon?” Krillin piped up, who was also seemingly drawn by her story.

“Our people have a legendary dragon - sort of like your wish granting dragon - who guards the pathway between the Mer-realm and the surface world. The merpeople weren’t allowed to interact with land people ever since one of our Queens - Aquellé the Cursed - she was called, swam away from home and was impregnated by a land dweller. It is said she made a deal with the sea God, Neptune to grant her legs to find her love on land in return for devoting her first born son to him… or was it sacrifice? I can’t remember. Either way, she went back on her word and kept her son, so she was punished. Only females were born to the throne after that. Our queens have not born a male heir in generations. ”

“That’s not how I remember it” Master Roshi’s voice sounded out. Bulma sat up abruptly, staring wide eyed at the martial arts master. He was, for the first time, wearing a serious expression, despite the fact that she was currently half naked.

“What do you mean ‘remember’? What do you know about this story?” she demanded. 

“I don’t know where you got your information from, Missy - but I know for a fact that Aquellé didn’t get her legs from some deity. She wished for it using the Dragon balls.”

Everyone’s attention was suddenly on Roshi, Even the antisocial pair sitting under the tree.

“And how exactly do you know this ‘for a fact’?” she asked skeptically.

“Simple: I was there.”

This statement was met with various shocked denials. Among a chorus of “No way!” and “Seriously?” her own “Impossible!” rang out the loudest.

“How could you have been alive?” she asked.

“They’re called Dragon Balls, Girl and my wish for longevity was part of the deal I made with Aquellé in return for helping her find the balls located on land. She had by then already found all the balls that were kept in the ocean by the merpeople. I was already in possession of one of them and my good friend Gohan’s many times over predecessor had one too.” 

A brief silence ensued as the gathered group seemed to digest this information before it was broken by Yamcha: “Man,” he said, “what a head trip”

“Do you think it’s fate or just the world not being as big as we think it is?” Puar squeaked at his side.

“Fate” Chiaotzu answered, “definitely fate… I mean, it’s too big of a coincidence that you would end up here, given your ancestral history with Master Roshi.”

“You may be right, Chiaotzu” Bulma agreed. “Oh, and Roshi… my name is Bulma. Call me anything but that and I’ll destroy the other pair of binoculars you have hidden behind your back” she said with a sadistically pleasant tone. 

“Do your worst mermaid!” he shouted, dashing off shamelessly, “I’ve plenty more hidden around my island.” Bulma sighed, feeling the weight of the world heavy on her shoulders, before dismissing it from her thoughts altogether to focus on the present.

“Hey Krillin,” she said suddenly, turning to the vertically challenged warrior, “You’ll tell me where he keeps his binoculars won’t you?” Her answer was a bright smile and she laughed out loud. 

“Come on homeboy,” she said, rising. “Let's go hunt some Island Treasure”

“I’ve got a better idea,” Krillin suddenly said, “want to see where he keeps the Dragon Ball?”   
“Ooh, I actually haven’t seen one before.”

“Then you’re lucky you’re a mermaid - it’s quite deep down” he said, leading her to the surf.

“You just want to see my tail” she scoffed jokingly to which he replied:

“You got me there”, rubbing his head.

“Can I come too?” asked Yamcha.

* * *

Vegeta was boiling inside. He never had any particularly strong dislike for any of the human fighters, but at that moment he would have gladly ripped the head off the scar-faced one and pissed on his still twitching body… and it was all  _ that woman’s _ fault, he seethed. He didn’t know what she was trying to accomplish by allowing that weakling hands all over her and he didn’t care for it one bit. She was his woman. He may not have claimed her in any official sense, but they had an understanding, didn’t they? How dare she bat those ocean-blue eyes at anyone but him… or was it all a game to her? Playing with the affection of all the males she seems to ensnare so easily, and tossing them aside when she does not get what she wants from them. Not for the first time, Vegeta considered that maybe that was all he was to her all along, a donor to secure the next heir of her monarchy. Then again, she has been hanging around that crazy Briefs woman, being influenced by human culture in all its disgusting norms, which begs the question: What did he mean to her, really? The female species was deceptively fickle and annoyingly enigmatic. Maybe he was making a mistake in trusting the depth of her loyalty to him. He could make her body burn with the heat of passion, that much he knew to be true, but he was also the only worthy male that she’s encountered since developing breeding capabilities - as she so puts it. She has shown no interest in the human males she had encountered thus far, but Earth’s fighters were no ordinary humans. They were warriors like he was, maybe not on his levels but warriors nonetheless. Maybe that was the allure, he thought. So despite his certainty that she must care for him somewhat, he was yet unsure if she will continue to burn for him given a larger variety of fighting fit males to choose from. The uncertainty of it all was near driving him insane.

Vegeta took another deep breath, feeling the rage bubble within him with frustration at its stem. Any more effort he puts into this relationship could prove futile if the woman was already looking for greener pastures. Vegeta spied the woman in his peripheral. As she dived below the ocean surf he abandoned his farce of a meditation session and started pacing, thankful that she couldn’t see how badly she affected his composure with her antics. If she was already causing him this much emotional turmoil, he thought, was it worth the trouble to keep pursuing her affections? He should cast her aside. It seemed the smartest , most logical choice, but the damned woman was already so deep underneath his thick Saiyan hide that extracting her would prove just as tedious - if not more so than leaving her there. Besides, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t like what would happen if he did cast her aside, he thought, turning a baleful eye towards where the scarface last disappeared underwater with Bulma and the midget. The other option would then be to claim her truly as his. 

Saiyans were by nature largely promiscuous until they found their true-mates, whom they would then claim in a short, private ceremony. It involved creating a telepathic and empathetic bond with that person that cannot be broken save death. Needless to say, the death of one’s mate would be a traumatic experience for both parties to experience and often left the surviving mate severely mentally broken. It was not surprising then that mated couples were a rare occurrence. It left a vulnerability that is badly suited to a warrior race. It’s one benefit however, was stronger offspring. All elite Saiyans were produced by mated couples - usually nobility that were older and seasoned warriors. No young Saiyan warrior seeking the glory of battle would want to tie himself to another so intimately, which was for the best as the mortality rate of the young were notoriously high. The Saiyan Prince was by no means a young upstart, but neither was his fate so secure that he could mate with the woman in good conscience. He had no idea the state of mind he would leave his mate in if he was felled by the androids, less so with Bulma being such a strong telepath. _ No. _ He decided resolutely - now is not the time for marriage. It would gain him peace of mind in one area in his life and take it from another if he claimed her now. 

Vegeta’s pacing had, by this time, worn a trail in the sand and the frustrated Saiyan had yet to come to a decision about his romantic woes. At his wits end, he was all but desperate enough to pick a bloody daisy and start counting off love-me-love-me-not on its petals. So he could not claim her, Vegeta thought, recounting once more all his options, because he might die in two and a half years. He would not cast her aside, because he didn’t want anyone else to have her... That left one more option, he thought with a sinister smirk: he could bed her so thoroughly that she forgets all but her own name. It would mean going back on his previous resolve, but it would most certainly put all thoughts of scarface far from her mind and relieve some of the tension caused by his prolonged subjection to sexual frustration. Vegeta briefly considered what Bulma’s reaction to his sudden change of heart would be and was hit by a sudden revelation that brought him to halt. He already told her he wouldn’t lay with her until he became a Super Saiyan, a notion she vehemently protested. Therefore, the more he examined his sudden change of resolve, the more he felt strings of feminine manipulation attached to this decision. The little sea-witch practically backed him into a corner, didn’t she? They’ve already established that Bulma would use any means to get what she wanted from him, was this just another one of her games to get him to break his resolve? He wouldn’t put it past the wily woman. It was one of her traits that he actually found extremely attractive. It was a bold move for sure, he thought with the smugness of slowly returning confidence, but two can play that game. 

What would she do if he simply… did not react? The thought brought a smile to his face. A smile that faded once he realised that non-reaction would probably spur more outrageous flirting which would definitely put a strain on his self-control. Kakarot would not take kindly to him decapitating his friends. Therefore, the best option would then be to remove himself from the equation. With no Vegeta around to taunt, Bulma would probably stop pursuing Yamcha… probably. So, he would call the devious mermaid’s bluff and if it turns out that she’s truly interested in the other, inferior warrior… Well,  _ then _ he would go ahead with his previous plan that involved a thorough and relentless bout of rutting to the effect that she would completely lose her senses. Thereby banishing all thoughts of that pisspoor excuse for competition from her mind. Problem solved.  _ Vegeta, you are a genius _ . He self-congratulated.

Mind made up, Vegeta took one last look at the spot in the water the three warriors disappeared from, and took flight. He passed a single air car on his way back, crammed full of a bear-like giant that he recognized as the Ox-King - Kakarot's father in law, Kakarot’s harpie wife occupied the passenger seat and his boy was sitting in the back.

“Hey Vegeta” Kakarot greeted cheerfully, he was sitting cross-legged on the top of the vehicle but jumped off at Vegeta’s appearance, “leaving already?”

Vegeta, not pausing in his homeward flight, forcing Kakarot to join his pace replied with a nonchalant “Not my scene” before putting on a burst of speed, trailing blue energy all the way back to the compound.

* * *

“He what?” the mermaid’s indignant screech grated on all non-human ears. Piccolo visibly winced, a shudder moving down his spine before his face reclaimed the serene expression of meditation. 

“Well, to his defense” Krillin said nervously, “he’s right. These types of events are as much Vegeta’s scene as they are Piccolo’s. I’m kind of relieved he left to 

be honest - his sour mood was really pooping this party.”

“Not helping, Krillin!” Bulma turned her ire away from the news-bearer: the wild-haired Saiyan who arrived ahead of his family and much to his relief, glowered at the vertically challenged warrior at her side, still in dripping blue swimming trunks. “How in Neptune’s blue sea am I going to get back to Capsule Corp now? That inconsiderate ape!” 

“If all you’re worried about is a lift home I can solve that problem for you - instantly” Goku spoke up with a wink.

“Uhh!” Bulma threw her hands in the air, exasperated. Things were not going according to plan at all, she lamented silently. Then, she remembered her manners and threw in a belated “Thank you, Goku” lest her new friends think her rude too.

The commotion was interrupted by the arrival of a small red hovercar. The vehicle scarcely landed when the door swung open and out jumped a lithe black-haired woman in what Bulma recognized as an oriental-styled pantsuit. She barely hit the floor herself before she started hollering.

“Goku! How could you leave your family like that and fly off to Kami-knows where?”

“Auw, but Chichi we were heading in the same direction.” Goku started his supplication.

“That’s not the point Goku! You do this all the time… just up and disappear without a word and expect things to be alright just because you can be back in an instant. This was supposed to be a family trip you don’t just ditch your family on a family trip!”

“But Chichi, it was only the last few miles.”

“No excuses. Next time you disappear, don’t expect dinner to be waiting for you when you return.” At this, the wild haired warrior practically turned blue in the face and Bulma decided that she liked Chichi already.

“You wouldn’t do that to me, would you?” Goku replied nervously, but Chichi was in a propor huff, with her arms crossed and her head turned off to the side to avoid meeting her husband’s eyes. At Goku’s soft supplication, however she relaxed marginally and with a deprecating smile admitted,

“No, I probably wouldn't. That still doesn’t mean I will condone you running off without me all the time. Oh, Goku” she lamented in a sigh, “What on Earth am I gonna do with you?”

“Hopefully, keep feeding me forever” he said straight faced and it was so comically romantic Bulma couldn’t help but smile wistfully.

Chichi, probably feeling that Goku was sufficiently sorry, then turned her attention to the rest of the group and greeted everyone with camaraderie. Master Roshi was greeted with an icy “Roshi” before her eyes finally landed on Bulma. After a seemingly thorough perusal of her person, one black eyebrow winged up sardonically and Bulma suddenly felt very self-conscious in her dripping, skimpy bikini. Bowing awkwardly, Bulma introduced herself.

“Hi, I’m Bulma. Nice to meet you.”

A pause, in which Bulma rose again to watch the face of the strangely intimidating matriarch 

“Bulma, eh? And what did the old pervert offer you to convince you to come to this depraved place, I wonder?”

At the bite in her tone, all manner of respect she had been subconsciously building for this woman went out the window.  _ Like that, is it? _ Bulma thought, bristling. 

“The old man?” Bulma answered with a scoff, “Actually, It was your husband that invited me here Chichi. Personally.” she continued with just the right amount of innuendo and watched the black-haired woman’s eyes widen with shock. “Popped right into my home just last week.”

“Is that so?” Chichi answered, seemingly cordial with eyes blazing at her husband who had suddenly gone red in the face.

“Yep.”

“And why exactly would my husband feel the need to make house calls to invite skanks, such as yourself to what was supposed to be for friends and family cook-out, Goku, care to explain?”

Chichi, it seemed was exerting more and more effort to stay calm. It wasn’t easy for Bulma either for that matter, whose temper prickled at being called a skank. She looked around to the gathered assembly who all stood frozen, waiting with bated breath for the fireworks to begin… again. Poor Goku stared at his wife in utter confusion with no idea how he ended up back in hot water.   
“I thought she had potential” was his simple, honest answer. A tick in her right eye was all that preceded the explosion that was Mrs Chichi Son’s temper.

“Potential for what? Swimsuit model auditions? And here I slave for 16 hours a day, cooking your food. Alone! Not to mention the rest of the chores while you’re off seeking the company of a woman other than your devoted wife…”

“It’s a wonder he’s stayed married for so long with all that that guy knows about women” Krillin said softly at her side. She would've laughed if it weren’t for the fact that Chichi suddenly turned her wrath towards Bulma.

“... and you! You should be ashamed of yourself. You homewrecker! Carrying on with a married man!” she shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at Bulma. With a sigh, the no longer angry mermaid decided to put the scorned woman’s suspicions to rest.

“Look, Lady I hardly know your husband. I’ve seen him all but three times in my life. I’m not ‘carrying around’ with him. I’m here to join the group of people training to fight the androids in three years. That’s why he invited me.”

Chichi took a deep breath, seemingly to continue her tirade when she suddenly let it out with a surprised huff. She stared at Bulma blankly in an attempt to process this information before a blush heated her cheeks and she uttered an ashamed “Oh” instead.

“You know, you really shouldn’t make assumptions based on what a girl looks like… that’s just rude” Bulma ended smugly.

“I apologize”

“I accept”

Normalcy seemingly restored, the festivities continued and Bulma met the rest of Goku's family.

“Hi, I’m Gohan. Pleased to meet you.” A wild-haired boy bowed formally in front of her. Bulma smiled and ruffled his black mane, 

“Ditto, kid.” she replied and his answering smile was bright as any child could be.

“Dad’s right you know. You have some real potential. Your power-level is very high. Why don’t you keep it hidden? Master Piccolo says it’s never a good thing to keep your power level up, it’s an... uh advertisement to where the bad guys can find you.”

“Master Piccolo ey?” she said, glancing in the Namekian’s direction. “Well he seems like a smart guy. To be honest Kid, I’ve kinda been slacking in my training, been doing sciency things with Doctor Briefs instead so I haven’t gotten to it lately. That and my own Sensei is way too dedicated to his own training to give me the time of day usually”

“I like Science too, Ms. Bulma. My mom makes me study a lot and Science is my favorite subject… and Maths too.” Gohan said. In about the same instant his mother was at Bulma’s side, and eager look in her eyes.

“So Bulma, I couldn't help but overhear… you work with Doctor Briefs you say?”

“Yes” she answered hesitantly.

“However do you find the time to train and work? It must be a nightmare.”

“It’s no cakewalk.”

“Who’s your Martial Arts master?”

“Uh… Vegeta. Mostly I self-train though.”

“Vegeta?” she asked, looking taken aback. “That evil son of a…” she paused glancing at her son in mild embarrassment before continuing, “Well, that definitely won’t do. Vegeta’s strong but I hardly see him as a teacher. One has to have patience for that sort of thing.”

“Where are you going with this, Chichi?” Bulma put in suspiciously. Giving her son another contemplative glance, Chichi dragged Bulma away to the house. Once safely out of earshot of the other guests she laid out her proposition.

“Look, Gohan hasn’t been working well with the tutor’s I’ve gotten for him, and I really don’t have the necessary finances to hire the expensive kind… and he’s starting to ask questions, you know. I myself, and Goku as you’ve probably guessed, didn’t have the basic education needed to make a decent life for ourselves and it hasn’t been easy. Living off the land is good and all, but as you can imagine very limited. The world is moving ahead without us. I want my son to move along with it... I think you and I can help one another” she finally concluded.

“Oh?” 

“You need a teacher. A dedicated Martial Arts teacher and my son needs a tutor.”

“Woah woah. Let me stop you there. I don’t know if you know this but I haven’t been working with the Doctor that long myself. All I know of this world’s science and technology industry I’ve picked up in the four weeks I’ve been studying it.”

“Four weeks?” she seemed confused.

“I’m not exactly human, you know.” she said, and Chichi’s frown deepened.

“I’ve been living underwater for all but three months of my life. I’m a mermaid.”

Chichi snorted, watching Bulma’s face as if waiting for the “Psyche!” that would generally follow such an outrageous statement. When it didn't come her eyes widened in amazement.

“You’re serious?”

Bulma nodded, “Ask Krillin and Yamcha. I just took them swimming. If they can remember… I usually make people forget they’ve seen me in my true form if I talk to them underwater. Both Krillin and Yamcha said they remember every single moment so I don’t know, maybe it only affects weak-minded, or shall I rather say, normal human beings that way… I should mention this finding to Dr. Brief...” 

“So you can’t help me?” Chichi interjected with a wave, putting an end to Bulma’s rambling.

Bulma noted the disappointment on the mother’s face and sighed.

“Well, I didn’t necessarily say that.” 

“What do you mean?” she asked, tentatively hopeful.

“Well, according to this world’s standards I’m technically a genius” Bulma said with no small amount of pride and Chichi beamed in response.

“That’s just what I want to hear.”

Five minutes later the two women emerged, cool faced and resolute. Bulma sought her bag and immediately started removing all her jewelry while Chichi went to stand on a cleared space of beach and started stretching. After tying her hair up, Bulma, who had by this time garnered curious looks from all involved, went to stand opposite Chichi at about ten steps distance. Only when Chici lowered into her fighting stance did anyone bother speaking up.

“Uh… what’s going on?” Tien asked no-one in particular.”   
“I’m auditioning” was Chichi’s simple answer.

“You look like you’re about to spar” Yamcha put in redundantly.

“We are” Bulma said sternly.

“I’ve offered to become Bulma’s new Sensei.” Chichi said finally while a visible ki-field started swirling around her form, white in color. Bulma similarly raised her defenses creating a blue aura around her while storm clouds started rolling in, alive with electricity. 

“Well shoot, if you wanted a new Master you could have just asked, lil’ lady.” Roshi piped up. He was answered with a simultaneous “Shut up Pervert/Slimeball” by the woman squaring off. Goku sat cross legged on the beach, an excited grin on his face. The others followed suit and settled down to watch as well. Even Piccolo was standing by.

In an instant, Chichi rushed in with an aerial kick, which Bulma effectively dodged. The clouds above Bulma were swirling slowly. Master Roshi had settled at Goku’s side.

“Bulma’s stronger,” he mentioned with a critical eye as the two became engaged in the delicate art of combat, “but her movements are hesitant. Not yet natural”

“She also cannot control her energy well, she’s creating an energy pool from the elements around her. If she learns to reign in the leaked energy she’ll gain power and cause less harm to the environment.” Goku answered, taking his eyes off the battle long enough to note the turbulent weather.

“It’s wastage” Master Roshi agreed. 

“The battle probably will go to Chichi.” This came from Tien, who was standing off to their side.

“You think your wife will be properly equipped to handle Bulma?” Krillin asked his long time friend. “She won’t be able to teach her any ki manipulation, but I think that doesn’t really matter so much at this point as Bulma is more in need of basic hand-to-hand combat skills” Goku answered objectively.

As the fighting continued it became more obvious who was the better fighter, which was why no one was surprised when a redirected kick managed to hit Bulma in the face and send her flying into the ocean.

It took some time for Bulma to surface. She floated far into the surf, propelling her torso from the deep water with the rhythmic swish of her flukes. Bulma touched her jaw softly, noting the tenderness then and admitted that she had indeed been outmatched. She smirked at the watching crowd, and watched a panting Chichi take the customary bow that signified the end of their session. Bulma reciprocated, a bit awkwardly and watched the raven-haired fighter drop her guard. As everyone seemingly relaxed Bulma saw an opportunity and struck out. Quick as an Eel, a spear of water rose from the surf, targeting Chichi. Goku tried to intercept the weapon but predicting this, Bulma reshaped her stream, splitting it into arcs that formed a sphere of spiked icicles that he wouldn’t be able to protect her from with a lowered guard. The ice knives burst into a cool mist right before they found their intended target and lingered harmlessly around the couple.

“Impressive” came the deep baritone of the Green warrior. “You may be lacking in skill when it comes to Martial Arts, but you have the ruthlessness of a true warrior.” Bulma smirked. 

‘You can hardly expect me to be good at bipedal martial arts when I’ve been a fish my whole life, now can you?’ Her sassy telepathic voice rang out and was clearly heard by all warriors present. A twitch of his mouth was all that testified to Piccolo’s amusement.

The other warriors, it seemed were a bit slow to catch on to what just happened and just stood around looking shell-shocked. 

“All I saw was a demon-possessed spray of water coming out of seemingly nowhere.” Krillin finally admitted, putting two and two together. “Neat trick, Bulma.” The other guests seemed to relax as Bulma threw the colloquial human sign of ‘Peace’ with the arm that her bikini bottoms were tied around, before diving back underwater. 

Back at the compound, an exhausted Bulma was deposited right before the Gravity Trainer, that was alive and humming with the activity its Saiyan inhabitant. The sensation of being instantly trans-placed to a completely different scene left the mermaid quite disoriented and she sat down abruptly once her feet touched the ground.

“Don’t worry, the feeling will pass in a moment and you’ll be right as rain.” she heard Goku’s voice at her side, “Anyway, I gotta go. It was nice to get to know you Bulma. I’ll see you next week.” And with that, he was off again. 

Standing up again, Bulma briefly considered confronting Vegeta as to his little abandonment stunt, but with a yawn decided that tomorrow was as good a day as any to get into a verbal sparring session with the stubborn Saiyan. She was simply too tired.  _ Transforming more than once a day really takes it out of me _ , she thought, recalling her second transformation. Not that the sparring session preceding it made things any better.

Yamcha had carried her mermaid form the the privacy of the bathroom after she swam to shore, where she completed her transformation and put her bottoms and wrap dress back on. She spent the rest of the day lounging in the beach chairs chatting lazily to whomever she could. She managed to squeeze in a short nap and was woken by the chill in the air just after sunset.

All in all, the day ended pleasantly, with Chichi making the final arrangement with her son’s new tutor before they got into their hover car.

“So His dad will drop him off at 10, Monday morning for three hours and we start our own lessons at 4pm… that’ll give me enough time to have dinner ready” she said mostly to herself.

“Yes Chichi” Bulma answered, fighting hard to hide the exasperation from her tone. It was the third time this arrangement was reiterated. From the corner of her eye, Bulma saw Krillin nudge Yamcha towards her and he stumbled awkwardly to stand beside her just as the son’s car was lifting off.

“Uh… Bulma?” he started hesitantly and Bulma suppressed a sigh. 

“You ready to go?” Goku interrupted suddenly on Bulma’s other side.

“Just about” she answered before turning to face the poor sot of a warrior. He was handsome despite his scars and clearly felt some sort of attraction to Bulma, but without Vegeta, his response towards her previous flirtation really had no purpose, she admitted guiltily. She had chosen Yamcha because his open resentment towards Vegeta irritated her. Getting to know him better, though, she found that he was really not that bad. Thinking to put a stop to this deception, Bulma turned a patient expression on the warrior.

“Yes, Yamcha?”

“Uh… it was nice to meet you.” He ended lamely and Bulma couldn’t suppress her mirth at his shyness. Laughing, she said, “It was nice to meet you too” and having already said all of her goodbyes, was swiftly transported away by Goku.

  
_ Thank Neptune tomorrow is Sunday _ , she thought with a sigh as she drifted off to sleep.


	14. Cards on the Table

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lieutenant Ray Naga has gotten himself a crew and they seemed to be making headway in their search for Bulma.  
> Meanwhile, Bulma keeps playing games with Vegeta hoping for a reaction. She gets exactly what she bargained for...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forecast for this chapter: We have some light showers of smut ahead people.   
> Bring your umbrellas cause it's about to get wet.

Doctor Briefs usually spent his Sundays with his wife in their atrium, surrounded by their many pets, ancient and new. Thinking to use the opportunity to get a bit more sleep for once, one can imagine that Bulma’s disposition did not take very kindly to the sudden removal of her snug blankets that following morning.

“Up, Woman - you’ve been slacking off for too long. It’s time to get that flabby butt of yours in shape.” Vegeta’s gravelly voice grated on her nerve. She cast him a scornful glare, before swiftly reaching for the ends of her blankets again, only to have them snatched out of her reach by the now smirking Saiyan Prince at the foot of her bed.

With a growl Bulma sat up, still glaring at the current bane of her existence. “My butt is not, nor will ever be flabby. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like my blankets back.”

Without ceremony, Vegeta spun around and left her room, dragging the precious mound of goose-feathers and Egyptian cotton with him - the ends trailing on the floor. “If you want your blankets, you will find them in the Gravity Trainer.”

_ Why that… _

Bulma wasted no time rescuing her bedding from Vegeta’s purposefully indelicate handling. Jumping up, she raced after him in an oversized pink nightshirt, grabbing hold of her trailing blankets just as they were about to cross the threshold of her suite onto her tiled balcony floor. He surrendered them easily enough, having accomplished his primary purpose, namely, getting her out of bed. Bulma sighed in exasperation, and turned forlornly towards her rumpled bed. Seeming to sense her intention, Vegeta tone rang with the threat of retribution: “I’ll be expecting you on the grass outside in five minutes.” he said, before leaping from her balcony.

It wasn’t the first time he’d given her this rude awakening, and Bulma admitted that she should have expected it - Sunday or not. She quickly splashed her face with some cold water and brushed with her special salt infused toothpaste before slipping on her training leotard and boots. Following Vegeta’s example, Bulma cleared the railing of her balcony, dropping three stories down and flaring her ki before she hit the grass below for a softer landing. Standing from her crouched position she beamed at the scowling Saiyan,

“I almost stayed airborne for two whole seconds that time.” she gushed proudly, to which he simply rolled his eyes. “So, what are we doing today, Vegeta?”

“Actual flying”

Then it was Bulma’s turn to scowl. “Again, why can’t you just accept that air is not my element of expertise and we can move on to more productive endeavors.” To which his reply was a simple raised eyebrow. After a few unnerving seconds of being silently stared at, Bulma conceded with an exasperated groan. Plopping down on the damp grass without further ceremony to start her meditations.

“Remember to breath” he coached softly, “try to feel the energy within the air all around you like you do with the water.” He gave her a few seconds to become accustomed and reconnect with her own ki in relation to her environment, before starting his own kata. “When you’re ready”, were his parting instructions before returning his focus to his own movements.

Bulma observed carefully as the soft flowing of his limbs were interspersed with swift cutting movements. With her senses tuned into the flow of the air, she noted how each flex of his muscles affected the pressure and temperature of the air around him. He had told her once that this kata was designed to introduce young ones to the concept of air pressure manipulation with the eventuality that they learn how to fly and shoot energy beams. This session would mark Bulma’s third attempt to master it, the first two having failed spectacularly. Being used to being able to learn things quickly, Bulma was infinitely frustrated at her slow progress in this regard. Nevertheless, she decided to endure and persevere, resolving to keep trying until she can weaponise air with as much ease and control as she does water. Waiting until she felt most confident in her grasp of things, Bulma stood at Vegeta’s side and fell in with his movements, careful to accompany them with the right ki-manipulation. It was a strain and she stumbled a few times, but after the third repeat she could complete a full set without pause.

“The tentative manner in which you manipulate air is disconcerting woman, to keep yourself in the air you need a gust not a breeze.” Vegeta lectured sternly. 

“That’s not what you said last time,” Bulma complained.

“Last time you nearly uprooted a tree. You need to concentrate on manipulating the energy in your immediate vicinity not all around you, hence the need to know how to compress and expand the molecules, you can’t create a hurricane around you every time you fly. Learn to control it. Now do it again.”

It was exhausting, exasperating and repetitive, but Bulma had to admit, after the 20th kata she did feel that the air was easier to control. She was just about to mention this to her mentor when he interrupted her 21st set.

“I think that’s enough. You understand the basics. Now apply it. I want you to be able to fly by the end of the week.”

And with no further adieu, he set out for his Gravity Trainer towards his own training. The exhausted mermaid slumped to the floor, arranging herself spread-eagled on the lush green grass of the Briefs’ lawn. The sky was powder blue and sun rays filtered through the expanse of the sky with not a cloud to obscure their radiance. Bulma lay for a while, contemplating her companion’s especially grouchy disposition today and the reasons for it. She hoped it had something to do with her stunt with Yamcha the previous day, but his stoic disposition throughout the encounter left no clue as to whether he was actually affected by it, causing his abrupt departure yesterday, or whether he simply just grew bored. She had yet to talk to him about it and now lay, wondering how to broach the subject.

After a few more moments her thoughts dwelled towards other consequential matters as her limbs were filled with languid heat by the sun’s beating rays. She hardly realised she had been drifting off when Ms Briefs’ shrill voice rang through the air.

“Oh Bulma dear! You have a visitor.” she called and Bulma sat up with a start to witness the approach of the blond-haired woman dressed jovially in a cropped green boob-tube, and high-wasted denim capris. She was followed closely by none other than Yamcha, dressed similarly stylish in a pastel yellow button shirt and brown slacks. Their meticulously groomed appearance made Bulma instantly aware of her own state of dishabille, in royal-blue skin-tight bodysuit. She hadn’t even showered, she recalled shamefaced and really hoped that she didn’t stink. All thoughts of sweaty countenances were soon forgotten, however when she spotted what he carried: In his one hand he held a bouquet of red-roses, Despite the fact that she wasn’t really interested in him romantically, Bulma couldn’t help but be charmed by the gesture. She quickly got to her feet and dusted off her grass covered butt, greeting the warrior with a welcoming grin. 

“Yamcha!” she exclaimed, “what brings you to this part of the world?”

“I uhm… I wanted to bring you this” he replied, offering her the flowers with a stiff arm and a blooming blush on his cheeks. Recalling the appropriate human response, Bulma took the offering with a good natured: “Auw, that’s so sweet. You really didn’t have to, though.” 

“I was my pleasure,” he rushed to assure her before taking a breath so big his chest visibly puffed. His face suddenly became serious and his chocolate brown eyes became intense as he stared at her.

“I actually came to tell you that… well, I really enjoyed meeting you yesterday and hanging out was fun. I was wondering though, if you’d maybe be up to doing it again.”

“Hanging out? Why Yamcha!” she teased, “Are you asking me out on a date?”

He blushed red for a moment, shoulders tense, then suddenly slumped and with a self-deprecating grin simply said “Yeah.”

“And where would we be hanging out?”

Now beaming, he seemed to think a moment before asking if she’d ever been ice-skating before. His eyes practically lit up when she replied ‘no’. Just as he opened his mouth to say something else, an hydraulic hiss sounded behind the gathered party, startling the words right out of his mouth. The Gravity Chamber’s door fell open shortly afterwards and a sweaty Saiyan price stood at its entrance, looking surlier than usual. His fierce scowl immediately found the visiting human fighter, flicked towards the bouquet of roses Bulma held in her hands and then back to the scar-faced warrior. In a feat that Bulma would have sworn was impossible, his brows lowered even further, deepening his scowl and transforming his expression from one of mild annoyance to outright disgust, and Bulma was rewarded with exactly what she wanted to see: jealousy. 

_ Not as unaffected as you would have me believe, are you Princey?  _ She thought smugly. Bulma’s good intentions (of letting Yamcha down as softly as possible) all but flew out the window with this new revelation. The devious mermaid’s thoughts slowly turned towards revenge for the stunt he pulled on her that morning -  _ and _ the previous evening! Meeting the Prince’s burning gaze, Bulma responded to Yamcha’s unvoiced request with a deliberate, “I would love to go ice skating with you Yamcha.” and took great sadistic pleasure in the irritated tick that throbbed in Vegeta’s jaw. His eyes narrowed, promising retribution which would probably have caused anyone else to piss their pants in fear. Bulma found it strangely arousing.

Eyes moving between the two headstrong characters, Yamcha idly wondered if he bit off more than he could chew with his romantic pursuit of Bulma. The thought lasted only as long as her eye-contact with Vegeta did and when she turned the power of her sapphire-bright eyes on him, it effectively scrambled all significant thought processes and he found his mouth saying, “Pick you up at seven ?” without the full consent of his brain.

“Seven is great” Bulma replied, throwing a last smug look over her shoulder towards Vegeta before sauntering off with an exaggerated flair of her voluptuous hips. She was trailed by Mrs Briefs and Yamcha who was as entranced by her swaying rump as any healthy, red-blooded and unmated male would be. 

* * *

Staring up at the stone-faced Mammalian soldiers, specifically, the one who held a trident spear at his throat, Saber, formally known as ‘Boss’ to his compatriots, was cursing the very day he decided to drag that pretty blue haired mermaid with the pretty rainbow tail from her hidey-hole. She may have gained him a fair amount in coin, but it was hardly worth his missing teeth.  _ And _ now her companions have come seeking retribution. It was bad business all around, he concluded.

‘I’ll ask you again, Eelian scum,’ the trident holder sneered, ‘what have you done with our princess? And if you lie again, I’ll stab this trident into your carotid artery and leave  _ Razor _ here to do the rest’ The meman threatened, motioning towards their massive pet Tiger Shark that was currently ominously circling his tied up crew.

_ Damned either way then _ , the Cavern Bandit thought with a defeated sigh and decided fessing up would be his best bet after all. Hesitating a moment longer, he was promptly spurred into action with a little more pressure applied with the deadly spearpoint at his throat.

‘Ok, alright. I’ll talk! Yeesh!’ he exclaimed, causing the pressure to ease from his throat.

‘A few weeks ago me and me crew saw somethin’ shimmering in a cave. It turned out to be a female of your species: light blue hair, wearing body armour and sporting a tail sparkling with colors ranging from blue to green to purple. From what we knew of your people I recalled that her scale-coloring means she must be someone special and thought she might fetch a high price with the Eelian nobility of more crooked tastes, if you understand me meanin’.’ From the overflow of emotion that heated the water all around him, Saber could tell that his tale was causing quite the consternation and realised, too late that he might have worked a little harder to seem properly contrite.

‘You sold her?!’ the trident bearer exclaimed his offence.

‘Aye, I did.’ the Bandit leader answered plainly. ‘To one Lieutenant Knives of the Eelian Court’

‘Truth’ this came from the mermaid at his side. The one with the unnerving opal-white eyes, hair so black it seemed to absorb the meager light that surrounds them and a chrome colored tail that nearly matched the metallic hue of the armor she wore. It was that one that got him into this predicament in the first place, he thought with a sneer. 

Ray was trying his hardest to contain his rage at the audacity of the Eelian peasant who spoke so lightly of selling their General and beloved Princess as if she were a common slave. At hearing who she was sold to, he almost lost all his sense and gutted to worm on the spot, if it wasn’t for the staying hand his second-in-command and the retrieval party’s Truth-seer, Major Lapis Silvertail, had placed on his shoulder he was sure he would have followed through with the impulse and damned the consequences. His gills flared wide as he took a calming breath and continued with the interrogation.

‘So you sold the princess to Knives… that dishonorable piece of kelp would have most likely done away with her on delivery.’ Ray speculated, trying to suppress the crushing weight of utter failure weighing heavy on his heart. Hopelessness had been slowly creeping in, diminishing the confidence he first had when he started his search. Ray desperately wanted to believe Bulma was still alive, there was just something inside of him that prompted him to keep on searching, even when the evidence seemed pretty damning. Therefore, with his self-control reigned so tight and his muscles were shaking with the strain, ‘the Barracuda’ soldiered on, thinking if the worse had come to pass, there would be enough time to bury himself into the sand and wail in despair when he returned home.

‘Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t spit you where you float, maggot?’ he spat coldly. 

‘Knives didn’t kill her.’ the captured Bandit leader quickly reassured. ‘Not that he didn’t want to…. She managed to get him into a compromising position upon my delivery of her and negotiated her freedom - of a sort.’ Saber said, recalling the outcome of said negotiation with a scowl and absentmindedly drew his tongue over the broken spikes in his mouth. His fangs; his precious fangs that were once sharp and needle-thin were nothing but jagged stumps because of that wretched creature!

‘She somehow managed to get the Lieutenant to agree to have her swim the Sacred Pass of Redemption. If you ask me, she’s fair soft in the head! Nay men, give up this foolish pursuit. Your Princess is long dead by now most probably. No one returns from the Pass alive. If that isn’t a testimony enough to her insanity, that hooligan you call princess broke me teeth!’ Saber said, his accounting of events had started off quite objective, but quickly spiralled into the raving of a scorned Eel. 

Relief washed over Ray like a swift current. She _is_ alive. She made it to the Pass, which means their initial intel was correct. The Eelian’s rant managed to draw the group’s attention to his mutilated teeth and suddenly light hearted, Ray didn’t hesitate to show his mirth as he released an amused chuckle.

‘I don’t think your truth-seeing opinion is needed to verify that last detail, Lapis. I don’t doubt for a moment that he came face to tail with our Bull Shark.’ he said with a smirk.

‘Yep. That’s our General’s work alright’ his second-in-command agreed, leaning in to seemingly study the Bandit’s toothless state more closely.

It was the first real lead they had managed to dig up in weeks of searching. With the combined tracking ability of a squad member called Blade and his pet Tiger Shark, Razor, they encountered quite a few mers who had wittingly or unwittingly came in contact with Bulma - no one having been able to contribute anything of value, until they came across their current captive. He bore the most left over residue of her scent. Upon confrontation he had initially denied ever meeting Bulma, but Lapis’ special ability enabled her to see right through the lie and landed them this valuable intel. The only obstacle that now remained was reaching the entrance of the Eelian’s Redemption Pass that is located in the heart of the Eelian’s city-cavern. Bull Shark did it with ease, and Ray would bet his Quasi-Arowanian heritage that it was no accident either.

‘So she used you to get into Eel-city, did she?’ Ray speculated with a smile, admiring Bulma’s cleverness.

‘I suppose she did’ the Bandit answered, ‘At least, that is what she told Knives before she almost took me head off with that trident of hers.’ he recalled bitterly.

Leaving the captive Bandit leader in the care of his subordinates, Ray took up a rhythmic pace around a nearby rock. ‘I guess the same strategy won’t work to get my team into the city, with treaty now firmly in place…’ he concluded, contemplative. ‘The next best thing then would be to pose as an emissary… Bandit, how many people know that the princess has been taken into the Pass?’ he asked his captive.

‘S’far as I know, it was all hush hush, but with the Pass being so central and all, there was bound to be a few witnesses. There are rumors floating all around the city of your missing princess. Some believe she was assassinated by the crown. Some think she was truly suicidal. The older ones are of the opinion that she has gone on a Quest to bring back the hide of the Great White like the warriors of old times…. As to whether she still lives. Well, most are in agreement that your princess is dead, sorry to say’

‘False… well, at least that last bit.’ Lapis interrupted, raising a sardonic brow at the captive.

‘Ok… I’m not sorry. She mutilated my face.’

‘So it’s an open secret that she’s been there.’ Ray said, deciding to ignore his captive’s open hostility. He then turned to face Lapis, ‘You think the Eelian Court will permit our squad to search for our missing princess if it were a formal request from the Mammalian Queen?’

‘I’m sure it wouldn’t be an issue - as long as it's the common consensus that no one is being blamed for anything.’ she replied.

‘Ok. Hold up! So we just swim right into the midst of our enemy, in the middle of the bloody active-cycle, for all of Eeldom to see and then beg the favor of that sorry excuse of a monarch who, for all intents and purposes sent our General of to her death? Anyone else see a problem with this?’ The sarcastic contribution came from their fourth squad member Marlin, their squad’s powerhouse. He was one of the three squad-members standing guard over the rest of the captive bandits, four if you count the shark. Prone to fits of rambling and as muscular as his namesake, his strong opinions and take-no-kelp attitude meant diplomacy was definitely not one of his strong suits. He was, however loyal to a fault and the most courageous fighter of all of them by far. Although, Ray was of an opinion that that was only because the merman didn’t have sense enough to know what was bad for him - an opinion he wisely kept to himself. 

‘They’re not exactly the enemy anymore, Marlin.’

‘Says who? A piece of scroll? Just because the truce is in place doesn’t mean that the people’s opinions about us have changed. I vote for a more stealthy approach.’

‘He’s got a point, Barracuda.’ Blade said, not taking his eyes of his deadly companion who was still circling the rest of the captive Eelian Bandits.

‘What about a compromise then.’ Abelone, better known as Abby, spoke up. The fifth and final member of Ray’s retrieval party. She was a bit older and not as skilled as the rest of the team when it came to physical combat, but more than made up for it with her energy-manipulating skills. The mermaid practically made magic with energy, using it to heal and harm in unbelievably creative ways. Before Ray asked her to accompany him on his mission, she was working as a tutor of specialised energy-techniques to gifted mers, her best student being Bulma herself, whom she held in high regard and treated like a little sister. 

‘What did you have in mind, Abby?’ Ray asked the mermaid.

‘One of us needs to go ahead, under the sonar, of course, and petition the Eelian Court to permit our thoroughfare through their city. The way beyond the Redemption’s pass is technically not in their territory.’

‘It’ll have to be me.’ Ray volunteered. ‘I still have a few mer-eels left that owe me favors. I can get through undetected.’

‘We’ll need a Royal Escort to the Pass… for our protection’ Lapis added.

‘Without any official documents, that could be a tall order…. But since this is supposed to be an under the sonar mission, like that of the transporting of a Mammalian Princess to a Death-Trap Pass, I think I might be able to pull it off. Remember though, we’re swimming blind here, Bulma tore the map from the Queen’s book, so we’ll have no way to reach the Reef except by the nose of that there shark of yours, Blade.’ Ray warned.

‘Remind me again why we didn’t just have another copy made. It’s not like the Book that Bulma stole from was the only copy of the Queen’s Book.’ Marlin harped.

‘The Book’s content is only viewable by Royals and only the Queen is allowed to copy it. We’ve been over this Marlin.’

‘Yeah but if will help in finding Bulma-

‘Razor’s the best tracker our city has to offer.’ Blade interrupted, speaking directly to Ray. ‘He’ll trace her. Don’t worry, Barracuda. We’ll find her.’

His confidence inspired them all. Ray could feel his doubts melting away and burying themself deep in some unreachable part of his psyche. They would find her. He reiterated. They  _ had _ to. For the first time in weeks, Ray Naga allowed himself to do something beyond hoping. He believed.

* * *

Bulma stared at her reflection in her dresser mirror, taking in the transformation that make-up caused on her features. The lights were off. Her room illuminated only by the dim glow of full moonlight streaming through the open balcony doors - and the hollywood lights that ringed her dresser mirror. Her eyes were shadowed in coal-grey, black and silver and her lashes were thick and dark. Dark teal pencil shaped her brows into a perfect arc and a line-up of beige and tan foundations made her face flawless - perfectly shadowed. The bow in her plump lips were exaggerated with red liner and her lips were glazed with scarlet-colored gloss. Its hue matching the ruffled bra-strap peeking out where her bathrobe had slipped off her shoulder. The cool moonlight at her back created a halo around her pale teal hair and the slightly luminous glow of her sapphire blue eyes added an eerie effect to the overall picture. She looked surreally gorgeous… she hated it. For the upteenth of time she asked herself what the point of it all was.

Vegeta hasn’t said a word to her the whole day, even though he had two opportunities to do so since Yamcha’s visit this morning. Not even a scowl. To say she was having second thoughts about this date was an understatement. This was supposed to drive him to her in a jealous rage in which he called her all the bad names in the book and she would return the favor in kind, and they ended up falling into bed together in a frantic tangle of half-naked limbs… or at least, that’s what the TV said was suppose to happen.

Bulma sighed, her forelon eyes looking out of place in her flawless doll face. She should have never trusted Ms. Briefs’ advice… or soap operas. After all, Vegeta’s about as human as she is. It was ludicrous trying to apply human courting behaviour to their relationship.

Just as she was about to reach for a wipe to take the gunk of her face, her suite’s bell rang. It was shortly followed by Vegeta’s voice through the intercom. 

“Woman, open this door. I need to speak to you.” he said. His tone didn’t carry its usual demanding ring. It was softer, more reserved. If that wasn’t confusing enough, he didn’t make his usual entrance into her room, which was via the open balcony doors, either.

Not knowing what to expect, Bulma pressed the button that would open her door.

She watched patiently from her perch at her vanity while he walked into her room with all the presence of one who owns it. Then, wasting no time dawdling, Vegeta came right out with his grievance.

“Woman,” he started in a sombre tone, “for what reason are you indulging that sott of a human warrior? Surely you do not want him as your mate.”

_ Well well _ , Bulma thought slyly, _ look who’s following the soap opera rules of engagement after all _ ... Deciding to continue the subterfuge Bulma answered nonchalantly “Yamcha is nice, Vegeta. I don’t mind his company. Besides, ice-skating sounds like it could be fun.”

Her answer seemed to infuriate him, which was expected, but his next words took her completely by surprise.

“Horse. Shit. I know what game you’re trying to play, Woman. It’s not going to work.” he turned around and was about to leave, but paused mid stride. “You know, I find this little game you’re playing quite pathetic.” he said over his shoulder, and she saw a sadistic smirk bloom on his face, “Quite frankly, It’s downright desperate, not to mention common.”

“How dare you call me common!” she shouted, jumping to her feet. “I’m every bit as royal as you are and you know it!”

“Just desperate then?” he asked, turning to face her.

“I am  _ not _ !” she screeched in outrage, her foot stomping the floor in a petulant huff.

He laughed, an irritating sound filled with masculine satisfaction that made her want to punch that cocky grin right off his face. Before she could decide upon acting on the impulse, he was in her face. His chest pressed into hers and his onyx eyes watched her intently.

“Let’s not kid ourselves here, little mermaid,” he said, his gravelly voice caressing all her erogenous zones. “We both know that it’s me that you want, not that pathetic weakling, don’t you?” His hand was suddenly tangled in her blue tresses and she gasped in an intoxicating mixture of pleasure-pain when she felt him yank, baring her vulnerable throat to him. He leaned his face into the juncture of her jaw and neck,

“Don’t you?” he pressed and inhaled deeply. The wet touch of his tongue over her pulse made her jump in surprise. Vegeta laughed huskily. He was setting her body aflame, and the sadistic bastard knew it. She tried squeezing her thighs together to get rid of the sudden ache that started between her legs, but it was no use.

“Vegeta...” Bulma moaned, both a plea and a reproof.

“Say it, Bulma.” he said in a voice so deep it was almost a growl, “Admit that it’s me you want deep inside you, filling you up while you’re writhing beneath me, clawing at your precious Egyption cotton sheets. I make you crazy with need. Admit it.” 

He wasn’t playing fair. She lamented with a half-muddled brain. He lifted his head to stare into her eyes once more with a triumphant smirk. He clearly had the upper hand again and Bulma didn’t like it at all. She resented how easily he could reduce her to a mewling puddle of goo. Well, if he wanted honesty.. So be it. She’ll give him honesty and may he be damned for it.

“Yeah…” she whispered hoarsely, “well, so what? You want to hear how my body turns into a hot mess of shaky, weakened limbs every time I get a glimpse of you exiting the Gravity Chamber in those spandex shorts? Or how my pussy throbs and my breast tingle when you touch me even in the most casual of circumstances? Greate Neptune, Vegeta! You know you only have to ask and I’m yours. But for some reason, you’ve decided to torture us both with your denial. ” She spat bitterly. At that point she shrugged off the robe she wore to reveal the red-lacy number she wore underneath, complete with silky ribbons and garter belt. She Watched Vegeta’s adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard and delighted in her feminine power.

“I’m not the only one with unrequited desires. And I’m not the only one playing games here, am I? I’ve been in your mind Vegeta. I know your most intimate desires. So why don’t we cut both the shit and lay it all out. Come on. Cards on the table. Tonight.” 

At this, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close to whisper in his ear.

“ _ I’ll _ admit that I’ve been using Yamcha to make you jealous and  _ you’ll _ tell me the reason why you’ve been denying us both what we so desperately crave.” as if to punctuate that statement she slipped her hand into the tenting sweatpants he wore, gripping his throbbing erection. His breath caught. 

“Kami Woman, you’ll be the death of me, I swear” was all he managed in reply, bunching the fabric at her hips as he tried to pull her closer.

“But what a way to go, right?”

Bulma was unsure who initiated it, but suddenly they were locked in a heated mating of lips and tongues. She managed to drag him to her bed and was semi aware that her clothes, or rather, underwear was disappearing fast, and not too gently either, but was past the point of caring. The last coherent thought she had, before being completely overwhelmed by the sensations in her body was:

_ Hey, there might be some truth to those soaps after all... _

* * *

Vegeta enjoyed pleasuring a woman. It was an act that brought immense masculine satisfaction and enhanced his own pleasure. With Bulma however, the experience was vastly different. Infinitely more intense. As he teased her body with lips and hands until her skin was fevered and clammy, she reverted helplessly to her original means of communication: telepathy. Her moans rang out in the spacious suite, the vocalization of her pleasure heightened his excitement. Her body gave him the cues he needed to work her to her zenith, but it was her mental articulations, however, that damn near undid him. Her mental barriers were all but gone and he could feel the all havoc he was wreaking on her flesh as she projected it all into his mind.

_ Kami, she is beautiful.  _ he thought savagely as he watched her writhe and buck into his hand. The words ‘More! Oh Neptune more!’ rang like a mantra in his head and his own need throbbed beneath the cover of his sweatpants. He had removed all but her panties and the thin scrap of red fabric hardly served as any sort of barrier either. Vegeta was straining with the need to take her, to sink so deep into that he forgot his own name, but it was too soon. A dip of his fingers already confirmed her chaste as the day she was born so her body wouldn’t be able to handle what he was planning to do to her. Slow and steady was not on his agenda that evening. His body ached with a primitive need to possess her inside and out, to brand her with his essence. The sensual assault she was telepathically inflicting on him wasn’t helping his state of mind either. Thus, with something akin to pain he slammed his own mental shields in place and focussed solely on his blue haired princess. He needed to stretch her out gradually. He inserted a third finger, watched her tense at the intrusion momentarily, but the friction appeared too good to deny and soon he had her mewling in pleasure once again. Leaning over her the way he was, he watched her her body gleam in the moonlight spilling through her windows, glinting off the thin sheen of sweat that covered her skin. He couldn’t help but taste her every few seconds. He did so now, dipping his head to her heaving chest. His mouth found one puckered peak at the apex of her breast. Her hands immediately dove into his hair, her nails scraping his scalp, sending shivers down spine.

She tasted salty. More so than any other he’s encountered. Her savory taste delighted him and he craved to taste her all over. One place in particular: the source of all that intoxicating scent of her arousal. He wanted to bury his face between her legs and feast on her nectar. He couldn’t though. Not yet. There was time enough for that later. His control was all but shot to hell and he’d be damned if this was over before it even started. No other woman tested his iron-clad control as heavily as Bulma did, he thought in mild panic. No one had ever made him feel so much. Care so much. It was as exhilarating as it was dangerous. Then again… those two usually went hand in hand.

Her breaths were coming faster now, her pulse shooting higher and higher and he raised his head to watch her face the same time her lower abdomen clenched and her legs clamped shut over his forearm. With a shout she tossed back her head, her blue tresses arching in the moonlight in tandem with her back. He felt her inner walls spasm around his fingers and there was only one word that came to mind: Magnificent.

The feeling of triumph as he watched her fly apart by his hands was tinged with sadness as he realised that he would have to leave her. Sooner rather than later. Her control over his emotions was too strong. The contentment that was slowly creeping in as the moment dragged on and her heartbeat slowed was a tell tale sign that he could not train at his full potential while she was around, making him feel sappy un-warrior-like things.

He would leave, yes, but not until he made sure that she knew that she was irrevocably claimed. His, completely and exclusively. With that thought in mind he set to work. He removed his fingers from her slick heat and made a thorough show of enjoying her taste as she looked on. Her skin was flushed from passion, but her dazed eyes came alive again at the licentious act. He grinned wickedly and lowered his mental shields, letting her feel his hunger and feeling her own reawaken in return. ‘Woman, this is far from over.’ he whispered in her mind before hooking his fingers under the useless scrap of lace and silk at her hips. He was just about to tug when her suite intercom buzzed and the Briefs woman’s ear-piercing voice floated through the speakers. 

“Bulma dear, your date is here to pick you up.”


	15. Closer (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The original Chapter 15 posted on FF is a bit long (over 9000 - tehee ;D) so I'm splitting it in two.  
> No summary for this chapter. Just heed the forecast...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forecast: Our little shower has turned into a torrential downpour folks - just paragraphs and paragraphs of smut!  
> Ye have been warned.
> 
> (Also, I'm ramping the rating)

Her heart was going a mile a minute, her eyes intent on those talented fingers that were currently hooked under the straps of her thong. They weren’t moving. Neptune-dammit why wasn’t he doing anything?! Trailing her eyes up his naked torso to meet his eyes, she was surprised to see one brow winged up in askance. _What was he waiting for, written consent?_ Only then did she register the buzzing of the intercom.

“Bulma? Are you in there honey? Yamcha is here for you.”

A bucket of ice water couldn’t have cooled her down faster. 

Oh Neptune, Yamcha! She’d forgotten all about him! Her face must have shown the sense of panic that suddenly overcame her because the corner of Vegeta’s lips twitched up in a smirk to add to the lopsided affect his raised eyebrow was already creating. The bastard! He was thoroughly enjoying this. 

With an earthly expletive the Blue haired mermaid pivoted up from her prone position and sprinted for the door, only to belatedly recall she wasn’t wearing anything but her panties. She spun back around, trying to locate her robe in the darkness. It was about a foot from her vanity. She grabbed it and was semi-decent in less than a second. Thank goodness the biometric access-control locks activate automatically in the evenings, because that woman was just nosy enough to enter first and knock later. With one last glance back at her rumpled sheet to confirm that the sexy Saiyan wasn’t lazing there in all his glorious nakedness with come-hither onyx eyes - _I wish_ , she thought, shivering at the fantasy. Bulma then turned toward the intercom pad and unlocked the door. Not long afterwards the door opened and Ms Briefs stood in the entrance, her eyes taking in Bulma’s state of disarray. A frown frumpled her flawless forehead and Bulma cringed. With Panchy’s expertise in romance, the ocean princess was sure that she had been caught out. That is, until Panchy spoke.

“Auw Sweetie! Are you having difficulty with your make-up? My goodness you should have just asked instead of making such a big mess of things.” She said, floating towards Bulma’s dresser where the bottles and tubes lay scattered before her mirror. The dazed mermaid followed her progression, catching sight of her reflection. The lighting in the room was dim, but even so Bulma could easily see the red smears on her cheeks and chin that were caused by Vegeta’s vigorous attention to her painted lips earlier. She felt her face heat at the memory.

“Your eyes were done perfectly, by the way. Your contouring looks flawless as well. Curious that you’re having problems with your lipstick…” she babbled on, sorting through the clutter. “But finding the perfect shade is kind of tricky I guess. A word of advice, though: If you want to rub off lipstick try blotting first. It prevents smearing.”

‘If you don’t make her leave soon. I’m going back to the Gravity Trainer for the rest of the night.’ Vegeta’s voice floated into her mind, making her jump. ‘And don’t even think of leaving the premises with that weakling.’ he said, tone ringing with clear warning.

Oh Neptune, she mentally whined, she’d been so close to getting what she wanted. Her body still tingled from his attention, tightly strung and aching for more. She needed to blow off Yamcha. She decided with a cringe. She should never have agreed to go in the first place, she admitted with shame. She really did like the guy and now because of her immature behavior his feelings are going to get hurt. Damn that obnoxious Saiyan prince for making her behave so impulsively and irrationally. He drove her crazy more than half of the time they were together... and yet she keeps seeking his attention and approval. Her body keeps yearning only for him. It made no logical sense, unless…

Great Neptune. She was in love with him, she realized with a start.

“Well fuck” she said aloud and Ms. Briefs whirled to face her, blue eyes wide with shock. She looked around frantically, as if unsure that the words actually came from Bulma’s mouth. Bulma’s lips twitched in amusement for a moment before she schooled her features to reflect the resolution she felt within herself.

“Ms Briefs,” she said somberly, “I won’t need your assistance tonight. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But Yamcha -”

“I’ll be down soon to explain it to him” she interrupted.

Ms Briefs looked confused for a moment more, before her eyes jerked up to meet Bulma’s. The princess suddenly saw understanding dawn on those distressed features and soon she was the reciprocant of a very Vegeta-esque smirk which looked very out of place in the Briefs-mistress’s face.

“I see.” came her simple reply and she sauntered out without another word. 

After Ms. Briefs left, Bulma went and sat before her mirror again, reaching for her packet of wipes to remove the red smears over her lips, taking the rest of her makeup along with it. She didn’t get why humans were so obsessed with looking like animated characters anyway. It was unnatural and kind of creepy. Bulma felt much better when it was all finally off.

Since there was no more sense in delaying any longer, Bulma dressed quickly in an over-sized T-shirt and shorts and donned her white lab coat. She met Yamcha in the foyer of the residential compound. He was dressed semi-casually in white button shirt and tan slacks. In his hands he held another bouquet of flowers. Upon catching sight of her, his face split into a beaming grin. It faded all too soon however when he noted her own homely attire, complete with fuzzy brown bunny slippers. His brows furrowed in confusion as his eyes sought hers.

Bulma offered a sheepish grin upon reaching his level on the foot of the stairs.

“Hi Yamcha”

“Did you forget?” he asked, confusion still evident on his features.

“Actually, no… I didn’t.” She then took a deep breath and decided to come right out with it. “Yamcha, I’m sorry, but I can’t go out with you. It wouldn’t be right.” she said with a shrug and felt a pang in her heart when she saw the disappointed drooping of his countenance. He stared at his feet for a few moments, seemingly coming to terms with the rejection. Then just as swiftly, squared his shoulders and met her eyes with a lopsided grin and scarlet burning cheeks.

“It’s cool Bulma. I kind of knew I was taking a fat chance asking out the girl that the Prince of Saiyans was sweet on. And you obviously care for him too otherwise you wouldn’t have defended him so fiercely yesterday. I don’t know. I just… I thought we had a moment yesterday. I guess I was mistaken. I’m generally not very good at talking to girls. To be honest, they used to literally petrify me as a teenager.”

He was killing her. This sweet, yet roguish warrior was making her feel like a stinking pile of poop. She shouldn’t have toyed with his feelings, she lamented inside. 

“I really am sorry. I shouldn’t have agreed to go in the first place. I’m….” Bulma was just about to confess her earlier epiphany, but stayed her mouth in the last instant. The repercussions of her feelings for Vegeta had to be thoroughly examined first, as it left her feeling terribly vulnerable. “Vegeta means a lot to me,” she stated instead, “and I let my own frustration at him goad me into making rash decisions. Will you ever be able to forgive me?”

“As long as we can still remain friends. Then you can still keep these, at least.” he said, handing her another bouquet of colorful flowers. 

The trek back to her room was made in silent contemplation. 

Caring for Vegeta was safe. And Neptune knew, the lonely Saiyan needed someone to care for him. Caring came with no expectations. Caring was a selfless act, for it disregards the needs of self for the needs of another. Loving him, or rather, being in love with him was, as the humans say, a whole different ball game. Love, Bulma came to realize, expected things in return. Expected commitment and reciprocation and wouldn’t settle for anything less. It is selfish. And yet… wouldn’t push and force him into that expected mold. If it wasn’t freely given, it was unacceptable. Being in love with Vegeta gave him power over her. The power to hurt her in a way that she knew could be permanently crippling. Love is helplessness, Bulma thought in despair, because that was how she currently felt. He already told her that he was incapable of loving her; that training and becoming stronger was his number one priority, and given the fact that the world might be ending in a few years time, Bulma didn’t begrudge him his dedication at all. Hell, his dedication was probably part of the reason she loved him in the first place. All that she could do now was take everything that he was willing to give and not push him into more. And then maybe… when this was over and they managed to survive the prophesied apocalypse, he’ll be open to the idea of loving her back.

Entering her room, her eyes were immediately drawn to the balcony, and the figure standing upon it. With his arms crossed and his head raised, eyes intent on the full moon, he looked every bit the fierce warrior that he was. The muscles on his broad back looked sculpted in stone with the way the ambient light hit them at just the right places, highlighting every bulge and shadowing every crease. Wide lats tapered into a narrow waist and ended at the rim of a light-grey sweatpants that hung just below the dimples in his lower back. Her gaze caught on a thick circle of scarred tissue sitting right between the aforementioned dimples, emphasizing the fact that despite their similarities, he was not human, and for the umpteenth of times Bulma imagined what he would have looked like with his tail still attached. His muscles twitched, as if feeling her gaze, but he had yet to turn around. He was waiting for her, she realized. He would never be the one to make the first move. He was constantly guarded; constantly shielding himself against emotions that he considered dangerous to his survival. A lifetime of habits were not so easily forgotten, after all, and Bulma had to remind herself that even though they were both soldiers, she was the only one who chose her career and her allegiance. She _would_ win his heart. She _had_ to, for her own sanity, but it wasn’t going to be easy. It wasn’t going to be instant either. Bulma wasn’t concerned though, for she had a lot of practice swimming against the tide.

“Do you miss it?” she asked upon reaching his side, resting her elbows on the balcony railing. He turned his head to look at her, simply frowning in reply and she motioned her head to the sky. “The ability to transform.” she clarified. “If it’s anything like being in my true form then I don’t know how you can stand it. I would go crazy if I lost my tail and had to spend the rest of my life in this two-legged state.” 

He seemed to think a while before answering: “Sometimes… Although it probably doesn’t feel the same for you as it does for me. This _is_ my natural form, minus my tail. The Oozaru is just an enhanced state. We used it mostly like a trump card in battle. You get a kick out of the rush of power, and untrained Saiyans mostly lost all their reasoning abilities and inhibitions and acted only on instinct. It was... freeing. Other than that it’s not a necessity to my life, especially when the legendary Super Saiyan transformation makes the powerboost from the Oozaru obsolete. My tail… on the other hand. Well, its continued absence is an annoyance that irks me on a regular basis” he said. He was growing more relaxed with her now, volunteering information easily. He was comfortable with her. Bulma knew that trust didn’t come easy for him and her heart swelled at the evidence that she was that much closer to his elusive, self-proclaimed ‘black’ heart.

“I still feel it sometimes,” he confessed softly, “its weight resting on my hips the way I used to tie in around my waist. Or feel the tug on my lower back as if I flicked it as I usually did when I was annoyed. It’s… disconcerting.”

She wanted to wrap her arms around him, but refrained. He would resent the show of pity. So instead, she did the next best thing, for both of them. She distracted him from his melancholy using her feminine wiles.

Sliding between the balcony railing and his body, she hopped up to plant her butt on the ledge and wrapped her legs around his waist to prevent toppling over. His hands immediately went to her hips to steady her and his lips twitched in amusement. Distraction accomplished. She thought triumphantly.

“So why don’t you just use the dragon balls to wish your tail back? If my ancestor could wish for legs, surely a tail isn’t all that difficult.” She continued the conversation nonchalantly, as if she didn’t feel his erection suddenly pressing into the seam of her shorts. He didn’t tolerate her indifference, however, and slipped his hands around and into the gaping lip of her denim shorts to cup her bottom. He pulled forcefully and ground himself even further into her. 

“We have unfinished business, you and I.” he stated, eyes completely serious now, and Bulma felt her pulse spike.

“Yes. We do.” Her body grew pliant and her breaths heavy. She watched him through now hooded eyes as he effortlessly lifted her and walked into her room. The sheets were cool against her back as he dropped her on them, anticipation making all the nerves on her body more sensitive to sensation.

“Tell me, Woman. Are you fond of this attire?” he asked huskily, indicating her ratty house clothes. 

“Not particularly” she answered immediately, as impatient to be rid of them as he seemingly was. With one quick movement her shirt was in his hands - and then it was in two, baring her loose breasts to his hungry eyes.

Her shorts and panties came off in one swoop and were similarly discarded on the floor with the rest of her clothes. 

* * *

He lowered his mouth to her breast and she watched in heated anticipation as his tongue traced wetly around her areola and flicked over the hardened tip. Her womb clenched in return and she let out a breathy gasp. Onyx eyes flickered briefly to her blue ones and she recognized a mischievous glint there before his attention was back on her breast. Wet heat enveloped her as he sucked her nipple into his mouth, his fingers attending the to the other side, tugging and rolling them around. Her hands went to his hair, burying themselves in the gravity defying tufts of their own accord, keeping his head to her. Each draw of his mouth had an echoing tug on between her legs, and her hips bucked helplessly into him. She felt empty, burningly so, and desperately needed him filling her, stroking her from the inside like he did with his fingers in their earlier romp. 

Oh Neptune, she thought breathlessly, if this is what happens when your breasts are stimulated then she would be infinitely grateful that she lost her chest scales. Somehow it no longer feels like a curse.

It wasn’t enough, though. She needed more.

“Vegeta. I need...” she begged. “I need...” Unable to think beyond that point to what exactly she needed and simply settled for, “More.”

His masculine chuckle filled the room, his voice sending a pleasurable shiver down her spine. He quickly switched over to the other breast, laving it with the same attention as he did the first one, while his palm smoothed down her torso, over her belly to come and rest between her legs. It stayed completely still, his fingers on her yet not where she wanted them. She gave a little forlorn cry and opened her legs wider so that his middle finger slipped in between her folds and rested on the little bud there. She moved her hips in time with the draw on her breast, taking her own pleasure from his maddeningly unmoving hand.

“Vegeta!” She scolded her frustration and was answered by a sharp pain in her breast as he bit down on her nipple. She cried out and he lifted his head. Vegeta sat back on his heels, a smug smirk filled with male amusement adorned his face.

“You’re a greedy little thing, aren’t you?” He asked, trailing his finger over her soaking entrance and back up to her little pearl, drawing circles around it.

“Yesss” she hissed, hips bucking as pleasure rippled through her whole body.

His eyes, intent on the havoc he was wrecking in her body flashed back up to hers, the corner of his lips winging up in amusement.

“What a coincidence,” he stated huskily, “So am I.”

Without further preamble, Vegeta’s arms slid around her thighs and he tossed them over his shoulders. Slowly, never breaking eye contact, he lowered his mouth to the junction of her thighs, then lazily drew the flat of his tongue through her folds, straight from her weeping core to the hooded little bud at the top, throbbing for attention. The sensation was so intense her hips jerked in reaction, nearly bucking him off her.

“Hold still.” he ordered, brows drawn downwards into a frown displaying his displeasure. He forced her compliance by pinning her wayward hips to the mattress with his forearm. 

Then he attacked her core with lips, tongue and teeth and her hands flew once again to his hair, tugging and pulling while he ate at her like a starving man. Bulma was overwhelmed with sensation, writhing underneath his restraining arm while the pressure built and built and coiled tight in her womb. Her cries echoed in the room, her lungs working overtime as he mercilessly speared into her with his tongue before licking his way up to claim her little nub between his teeth, flicking it over and over with the tip of his tongue before drawing it between his lips and sucking hard. She shattered. Her womb spasming and clenching while her thighs went rigid around his neck. She screamed, back arching as wave upon wave of pleasure pulsed through her body flowing from her core straight into the tips of her fingers and toes. And still, he continued his assault on her body, until the pleasure was so intense it bordered on pain and she pulled at his hair to get him to stop.

If this is what bipedal sex was like, she thought idly, she was never returning back to the ocean. And they hadn’t even gotten to the sex part. She was slowly coming back down from the high, the quaking in her body lessening in intensity until she felt lazy and happy and content and tired all at the same time. She felt him wipe his mouth on the inside of her thigh and watched him sit up slowly with a heated look in his eyes. Just like that, her body was raging and needy again, and the same empty ache was back, and burning for attention. 

She watched intently as he stood up and got off the bed, the muscles on his back flexing with every step he took. He went just far enough to be able to remove his track pants comfortably, her eyes following the path of his hand as he dug his fingers into the waistband of his pants and pulled down, baring first the tight muscles in his buttocks and then the powerful thighs underneath.

Vegeta’s body always fascinated her. He was small in stature with a narrow waist, emphasizing his broad chest and thick, muscular legs in comparison. He wasn’t overly built, he was actually much leaner than the other warriors, but he was deceptively compact and each of those muscles carried decades more strength than the average human.

He turned around, and Bulma’s eyes immediately fell to the thick length between those powerful thighs. Her breath caught in her throat. Her heart started pounding double time. He approached the bed, coming to kneel between her shameless spread thighs once again, dragging said thighs and draping it over his own.

Bulma had studied human anatomy, enough, she believed, to be familiar with what an erect penis is supposed to look like. Vegeta’s shaft was thick and long, the mushroomed crown resting high on his abdomen, well above his navel. He was much bigger than she expected, she noted with trepidation. Adrenaline laced with fear pumped hotly through her veins, tainting her anticipation with a little bit of anxiety. Surely that thing couldn’t fit all the way in her, she speculated, glancing up to catch his eyes. His expression remained stoic and he watched her, a hint of challenge in his eyes and Bulma squirmed with restless anticipation.

 _What is he waiting for?_ She thought, starting to panic. It wasn’t as if she knew what to do, she was completely ignorant of human sexual relations. Hell, she was completely ignorant of sex as a whole, all her knowledge translating to purely theoretical. The soap operas didn’t show this part… she had no clue how to proceed, she thought hysterically. She snapped.

“Where in Neptune’s Blue Sea do you hide that thing in those skin tight spandex suits?” Bulma blurted and watched the corner of his lips twitch in amusement. The tension abruptly broke, as he winged one eyebrow up.

“What?” she carried on, “it’s a legitimate question… wait, don’t tell me: You’re a grower, not a show-er?”

The twitch stretched into a full-fledged smirk. “I think I liked you better when you couldn’t speak at all,” he said lazily. “Tell me woman, what do you think is the quickest way to shut that smart mouth of yours up?” he asked, fisting himself at the base. Bulma’s attention was immediately drawn towards his heavy erection, her throat thickened at the sight and she attempted to swallow, managing with great difficulty. Slowly, he stroked himself from root to tip and Bulma watched, fascinated, as a bead of liquid welled up at the tip. Her mouth watered, her tongue slipped out to moisten her suddenly dry lips. She glanced at him again. His eyes were on her mouth, then flicked towards her eyes, hot and hungry. His desire for her was tangible, it felt like a caress over her sensitive skin and quickened in her core. 

“Do you want it?” he asked huskily, his voice dropping an octave lower to hit all the right spots. Great God of the Sea even his voice was erotic, turning her brain to mush so that she could do nothing but nod helplessly.

“What will you do with it, I wonder?” he said with another seemingly absent minded stroke. The little liquid bead started to drip of the crown and she had an absurd urge to catch it with her tongue.

Vegeta was a verbal lover, Bulma thought in wonderment. Her stoic, and silent warrior was a talker in bed … who knew? Who the hell cares? She wasn’t going to complain. She wanted to answer him, clearly that was what he wanted, but for some reason felt intimidated and a bit shy. She opted for telepathy instead.

‘Can I...’ she started hesitantly, then sent a mental image of her what she wanted instead, too intimidated to get the words out. He gasped and she watched in amazement as it gave a little jerk in his fist. He slid his thumb over the tip, catching that fascinating bead and Bulma eyes widened as when in the next moment, his thumb slid between her lips. Bulma wasted no time on hesitation, sucking the appendage into her mouth, moaning when his unique flavor touched her tongue: savory and musk with a hint of spice. It tasted like more. She said as much.

“Later,” he answered gruffly, and dragged her body closer to his. Bulma’s pulse started racing again, as she felt him notch himself at her entrance. She felt swollen and slick and and really unsure if this was even going to work.

“Will it fit?” she asked frantically, before he went any further.

“Silly woman,” he said, affectionately. “Relax for me.” he ordered, and waited until she obeyed.

He pushed in slowly, stretching her in increments. It was excruciatingly pleasurable and when he reached the thin barrier of her innocence, he paused. It burned yet she felt deliciously stretched. She wanted him deeper, she wanted him to fill all of her. Just thinking of it sent another quake rippling through her sheath and Vegeta’s breath hissed out, seemingly in pain. Immediately Bulma tensed up, worried she had hurt him somehow, with the effect of starting to feel more pain than pleasure herself.

“Hold still Bulma.” he commanded.

“It hurts” she replied, “did I hurt you too?”

“No woman, you didn’t. Kais, you’re so tight. It’s…” he hesitated, “Reach into my mind and feel what you do to me” his voice was rough and he sounded strained. 

Immediately Bulma followed his direction and linked with him. Pleasure exploded in her brain, making her cry out with its intensity. She quickened about him again and heard his guttural curse. “Pull out, Bulma pull out now. I’m hanging onto my control by a thread.” She cut their link and once again felt nothing but the sensations in her own body. The pleasure and the pain. Vegeta’s forearms rested on the bed beside her head, his forehead resting on hers. He took some time to compose himself, eyes never leaving hers. Once his breathing evened out, he lifted his head, one hand trailing down her body to grip firmly at her hip.

‘You ready?’ his voice floated into her mind.

‘Yes.’ she replied. And he surged forward.

Pain.

Sharp and intense at first then slowly lessening as she adjusted to his girth. It felt almost like getting a piercing, she thought idly. Vegeta was still above her, his breathing heavy as he too adjusted to the grip of her body. As she relaxed completely, he caught her eyes, an unspoken query in his. She nodded subtly and he retreated. The drag of him was torture through her sensitive inner tissues, pleasurable and painful all at once, the sensation felt so good that she moaned in appreciation. He continued, slowly, letting her grow accustomed to his size until her hips started moving of their own volition, falling into rhythm with his. As the pain lessened with every stroke, the pleasure spiked and soon she was encouraging him to pick up the pace, to go harder. It wasn’t long before that feeling started building again, her pleasure climbing as he stroked into her. The bed rocked beneath her with his powerful thrusts, her body rocking along with it. Her orgasm was bearing down on her with the speed of a Mako coming in for the kill and she clutched at the sheets, tensed, and fell helplessly over the edge.

“Vegeta!” she keened, as she skyrocketed into rapture, every muscle in her body went taut as wave after wave of ecstasy shot through her. Vegeta's grip on her thighs tightened almost painfully. She watched, captivated even through the haze of her own pleasure, as his strong body lost all sense of restraint, his pace becoming and erratic, muscles glistening with sweat as he chased his own climax. Their eyes met, his intense black gaze boring into her and she felt she could come all over again, just from that one look. He suddenly froze and emitted a deep animalistic growl. His head fell back, the corded muscles on the thick column of his neck were straining as he experienced his peak. His teeth were barred, his enlarged incisors making him look savage in the moonlight spilling from the curtains. She felt it then, his climax, pulsing into her, uninhibited. 

When they caught their breath, he lifted himself off her, sitting back on his heels. She gasped softly when he left her body, warm liquid pouring out of her to pool on the sheets. As she caught a glimpse of his face, her heart stuttered and started beating double time. His eyes...

“Uhm...Vegeta, your eyes are glowing red.” she said hesitantly. He turned his eerily glowing eyes on her, then dragged it slowly down her exposed body lingering at the junction of her thighs and frowned. “Your… canines also seemed to have grown.” She continued when it seemed he wasn’t going to reply. His eyes jumped up to hers and he grinned. He looked… wild, untamed, and she couldn’t decide if it scared her or excited her. She watched as he dragged his teeth over said incisors, almost curiously. He then looked towards the open curtains, and sighed.

“Don’t worry woman, it’s just some lingering effects of the blutz waves from the full moon.” he answered, his voice more gravelly than normal. “

“Uhm… do they usually do this then? I can’t say I’ve seen it before.”

“It only happens in… specific circumstances” he answered, with a smirk.

“Oh” she said lamely, and started feeling heat creep up her face, which was ridiculous, she thought, given what they just did.

“Your eyes… they do the same.” he said, after a while. “When your emotions run high. These marks on your body too.” He continued, tracing the patterns on her legs with that were, indeed, shimmering slightly. She sighed, languidly content, a happy grin slowly spreading across her face as she replayed their coupling in her mind. It was amazing. She said as much to him. He surprised her with a dark chuckle and she looked at him in askance.

“If you think we’re anywhere near done here, you’ve got another thing coming, Bulma. Especially after the stunt you pulled today with that sorry excuse of a warrior.” he warned and it sounded almost ominous. She shivered, half in trepidation but the thrill of anticipation couldn’t be denied.

“Will you punish me then, my Prince?” she asked, in a husky rasp she could hardly believe had come from her.

His eyes flared brightly and she bit her lip, feeling excitement build all over again.


	16. Closer (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night between the sheets doesn't absolve Bulma of her responsibilities. Responsibilities that have become quite numerous much to the Saiyan Prince's displeasure.  
> Also, Ray and compatriots swim into some trouble while tracking their wayward princess.

Bulma wiped a strand of blue hair off her sweaty forehead and turned over with tired limbs. Her eyes immediately fell on the equally sweaty, heaving pecs before her and she was at once filled with immense feminine satisfaction. For all his cold exterior, the Prince of Saiyans was fiery hot inside. She always knew that his true emotions were concealed by stone-cold frowns and biting sarcasm, yet tonight, she saw all of those walls shatter to reveal the molten core of his passions, bubbling like lava. And when it erupted… Oh sweet Neptune it was glorious. A cold breeze rustled her sheer curtains and flitted over her skin, raising goosebumps where it touched and she was momentarily distracted by the outside world.

Her eyes widened in surprise when she noted that it was already light outside. They had been at it the whole night, and as a reminder, her muscles were screaming with the need to rest and recuperate. In full agreement, Bulma suddenly slumped onto that well-formed chest, listening as his heartbeat slowed and he came down from his own high. No words were needed, she thought, and sighed in contentment.

“Kelp!” she exclaimed, sitting up suddenly. “I forgot I’m supposed to tutor Gohan today. What time is it?”

“Gohan?” Vegeta asked, a frown creasing his brow, “Woman, what in Kami’s name have you gotten yourself into now?” he reprimanded with an exasperated sigh, “Your time is already stretched thin.”

“Yeah.” She said whimsically, “Everyone seems to want their pound of flesh nowadays” she replied with an insinuating grin.

“Kais above, now you’ve added Shakespeare into the repertoire as well.”

“The mere fact that you know that quote suggests you read him too, you hypocrite.”

“I had a lot of downtime recovering from training injuries. What’s your excuse?” he defended testily.

“Don’t pout, it’s unseemly.” was her smug reply.

“You’re deflecting, Woman. Why in hell have you added schooling my enemy’s brat to your ever-growing list of the useless, distracting things you do in a day?”

With this he stretched his arms out, folding them below his head and watched her expectantly with a cocked eyebrow. Bulma was momentarily distracted by the way the movement pushed out his already bulging pecs and flexed his lats into that deliciously broad V she had clung to in ecstasy not even 5 minutes ago. She bit her lip as the past evening's activities flashed through her mind, causing a fluttering in her belly. Finding his eyes she saw his amusement as he noticed the effect a simple stretch was having on her person. His lips tilted into that wicked semi-grin, and his eyes got that hot predatory look that seemed to hit all the right buttons all over again and oh sweet Neptune… what were they talking about now again? 

Gohan. Yes, she needed to tutor Gohan. She reminded herself sternly.

Shaking her head to clear the lust-webs from her mind, she continued awkwardly. 

“I’ve agreed to tutor Gohan in return for martial arts training from Chichi.”

She watched shock transform his feature before a rumbling laugh burst from his throat. “Chichi? Goku’s harpy-wife? Woman, she’s as weak as they come. What does she know of fighting?”

“More than you know actually,” she said coolly, irritated at his mirth “she whooped my ass Saturday.”

“You jest!” he exclaimed, still amused, outright scandalised even, at the suggestion.

“No really. On a purely physical level her strength might pale in comparison to mine, but skills-wise she’s better. She fights well. Her form and style is tailored to the feminine body and relies on elasticity and speed rather than brute force. It’ll benefit me well. Your sensei doesn’t necessarily need to be stronger than you are to be able to teach you some valuable skills. Look at Goku. He trained under Roshi and he way surpasses that old perv. ”

“Hmmm” Vegeta grunted, seemingly pacified. He suddenly sat up and made quick work of dressing before heading to her balcony.

“Where are you going?” she asked, puzzled.

“Training”

“Seriously? How can you even move after last night? I’m exhausted! You sure you’re not an android too?” she teased, stretching out on the bed. She felt slightly sore between her legs, but blissfully sated as well. She looked over to where Vegeta was standing on her balcony, and the cold expression on his face instantly killed the lazy contentment she was feeling.

“Your stamina is pathetic, Woman.” he said in disgust, making her feel suddenly self-conscious. Gone was her sweet and passionate lover. In his place stood the stoic warrior prince with the giant stick up his ass. “Some warrior you are,” the prince spat, “If you can’t fight for at least two days straight, much less fuck, then you have no business in this coming conflict.”

“Hey, now wait just a minute -” she started angrily, drawing the sheets up to cover herself.

“If you’re serious about assisting when the androids arrive, you’ll stop whining and do what needs to be done. Anything less and you become nothing but a liability.” 

And then he jumped.

Well, that was uncalled for, she thought, seething with resentment. _Liability my sparkly blue tail!_

‘Hear that Vegeta!’ she projected telepathically into the ether. ‘You’ll regret underestimating me. They didn’t call me Bulma the Bull Shark for nothing and if you think for one moment that I’ll let myself be called a liability by anyone you’re sorely mistaken.’ She continued her rant.

* * *

Vegeta grinned in amusement as he listened to the fiery temptress’ tirade. She was currently promising to take down the androids all by herself, damning him and anyone else who didn’t believe in her. The woman had grit, he thought with pride. His grin soon faded as he contemplated the upcoming battle. Bulma couldn’t afford to slack. Not only would it be bad for her, it would distract him as well, diverting his attention from his opponent. He didn’t want to see her hurt. It was why he pushed her so hard. She needed to be ready, for her sake and his peace of mind. To be honest, he’d much rather prefer she stay far away from the battleground altogether, but the damn woman is far to headstrong for her own good. 

Vegeta sighed, no longer willing to deceive himself. Bulma would be a distraction regardless of whether or not he was confident in her combat ability, which was unusual because Saiyans often have to deal with the eventuality that their mates join them in a battle. Why then, is he finding it such a bitter pill to swallow? The answer hit him like a blow to the tail stump.

With a start he realized it was because slowly, without him even realizing it, his whole outlook on life had changed within the span of weeks. When he thought of his future now, he no longer saw himself going out in a blaze of glory with Kakarot dead at his feet, taking this pathetic mudball of a planet with him. For the first time in a very long time, Vegeta, Prince of Saiyan, actually felt like living, not for the pursuit of power, but simply for the sake of it. He still wanted to kick that infuriating Saiyan’s face in, but he no longer felt the desire to kill him. Not particularly. He wouldn’t bat an eyelash if the fool did die in their eventual clash, but neither would he outright seek his destruction. Killing Kakarot felt like a waste. Especially since he knew that the brain-damaged fool would probably get up, stronger than ever, and attempt to return the favor in kind after his eventual resurrection. He would have to train his life long to stay ahead of the clown, constantly pushing his limits and getting stronger. It was a fate that suddenly didn’t seem bad at all and made his blood drum in anticipation.

And the woman… Bulma. Well, it goes without saying that she would stay by his side, driving him crazy in all the delicious and infuriating ways she does now. He wondered what she would say if she knew he was planning on keeping her above sea level indefinitely. That promised to be one hell of a fight, he thought gleefully, but one that he was confident he would win. With a heart lighter than it had been in ages, Vegeta set off for his bathroom. There was no way he would be able to concentrate on training with the scent of their night together still clinging to his every pore.

* * *

“Uhm, excuse me Miss Bulma.” Bulma looked up from her own studies to see Gohan standing at the edge of her desk. His appearance that day was so drastically different to the previous day that he hardly looked like the same boy. Gone was the carefree beach boy. In his place stood a disciplined young student. His messy black hair was combed back and smoothed into a neat braid and he wore a high-necked and long-sleeved white button shirt in the oriental fashion, loose black cotton slacks, white socks and black slippers. The notebook he carried covered half his face the way he was holding it, and his chocolate brown eyes were peeking hesitantly over it at her.

“You have a question?” she guessed. “Don’t be shy to ask if you don’t understand - or if you’re stuck. It’s the most efficient way to learn.”

“Actually, I completed the exercise.”

“Already?” she asked, her eyes widening in surprise.

“Yes. Would you check it for me?”

“Of course.”

After only a quick peek, Bulma could confirm that the little half-Saiyan was without a doubt the polar opposite to his father when it came to intellectual capability. No wonder his mother pushed him so hard. His notes were concise and his calculations were well supported with proper diagrams. And very neat to boot, she thought with pride and beamed at the boy.

“Kid, remind me again why you need a tutor if you’re breezing through the exercises? It’s all correct, by the way.” Gohan smiled shyly.

“I’m not very good with the words Miss Bulma, so the textbooks don’t make a lot of sense to me.”

“But you’re good with the numbers, for sure.”

“It’s easier to understand if someone explains it the way you do.”

“Well I’m glad I could be of use then.” she said, smiling. “You know this kind of reminds me of the first time I started training the younger soldiers back home. It was right after I had been promoted to Lieutenant Colonel. I kind of enjoyed it.”

“They have a military in the ocean?” Gohan asked, wide eyed, then more shyly, “My mom says that where you come from.”

“Of course it is,” she said mockingly stern, “why else would I have a tail like a fish?”

“I think your tail looks really neat, Miss Bulma.”

“Why thank you Gohan, you’re a sweet kid. Hard to believe that under all that spit and polish lies a battle hardened warrior.”

The little Saiyan rubbed his slicked-down hair self-consciously before offering her a sheepish grin. The moment was interrupted by the pneumatic hiss of the door. In walked Dr Briefs, a puzzled frown on his face directed at the wire contraption he held in his hands.

“Bulma dear, we seem to have hit a snag with this prototype.” He said without looking up. “It reads the brain activity and has no trouble converting it into transmittable waves, we’ve even managed to project images from the brain onto a screen, but to stimulate the right neural nerve paths of the one receiving the data is proving to be difficult.” He then finally ceased his examination of his invention to take in his surroundings, his eyes briefly widened upon seeing her guest. “Good day young man.” he greeted.

“Good morning Dr. Briefs.” Gohan replied and scampered off to his own desk, where he had been doing his maths assignment earlier that morning.

“You said that it’s being tested on apes at the moment, yes?” Bulma asked, turning her full attention to her mentor and host.

“Yes” Dr. Briefs carried on without further preamble.

“Why not test it on humans. The brains of apes do not function in the same manner as humans do, the communication channels we use are different from one another. You might be facing the same difficulties I did when I first learnt to speak via sound waves. It took a while for my brain to get used to the new medium of communication.”

“I haven’t really considered the limitations in the brain functionalities of the apes … if what you’re saying is true, it might be that ape brains are too underdeveloped to communicate via telepathy.” He started pacing, seemingly lost in his own world. “It’s too early for human trials however. We do not know the extent of the technology and what damages may result to the brain.” With a heavy hearted sigh, Dr. Briefs turned his rueful eyes towards Bulma and said, “Back to the drawing board, I guess.” and he swept out as easily as he entered, leaving Bulma and Gohan to work further in relative peace until his father came to collect him for his training.

Bulma’s stomach fluttered nervously at the prospect of starting her own training, but she felt ready. She would become as skilled of a fighter on land as she was in the ocean, because now that she had a taste of what the surface world could offer her, she was loath to ever part from it. 

* * *

Ray let out an incensed expletive and rolled out of the incoming shark’s trajectory. His team scattered from formation as he swung his trident and hit the Great White female on the snout with the blunt edge. She got the message quickly and swam off miffed. 

The cavern was a death trap, and his hope that Bulma would have survived it was fast dwindling, yet again. Ahead of them, Razor lead them steadily onwards, uncaring of the other predators’ continuous attempts to have them for dinner. Blade informed them that her scent must be strong for him to be behaving this way. It didn’t necessarily bode well for the royal General. A stronger scent trail could either mean that Bulma herself was close by or that something of hers was left here. Bulma has been missing for many tides. If she was close by, it was likely that she would no longer be alive. Not in these waters.

The cavern network they were travelling through was teeming with sharks, the deeper they swam, the bigger the predators became. The female who had just attempted to take a bite of them had been one of the biggest sharks he’d ever seen, roughly 8 tails long. Which, he guessed, is probably the combined length of all of them put together. And it seems the bigger the cavern the bigger the fish, and the less of them there are, prowling around. Big predators do not like to share space. They are also far more intelligent than their younger counterparts. If Bulma was alive, whatever she was swimming from at home cannot possibly be worse than becoming appetizers in a room full of giant sharks. When they suddenly emerged into yet another cavern, so big it felt like the open ocean, Ray could not see a single shark. His stomach pitched, forming a hard ball of anxiety just beneath his breastplate. 

He paused briefly, expanding his senses to try and catch any movement above or below. The place was quiet as the grave.

‘That’s not good’ Marlin’s input echoed his sentiment, and he saw the soldier’s eyes fearfully roaming the cave’s extremities.

He considered briefly the pros and cons of more light before deciding that it’s better to see what’s coming at you than to attempt to remain unobtrusive in the face of an unknown enemy. 

‘Delta formation, now.’ he ordered. ‘I want everyone to put up light spheres. Two to the floor, two to the ceiling and one following our wayward tracker who seems to have gone off without us.’

His team wasted no time arguing. Immediately the cavern lit up around them as the globes of energy floated into position. Blade’s much smaller globe shot off into the dark, following his partner who it seems was swimming straight towards the cavern ceiling. Following his small nod, his team started trailing after the Tiger Shark, all the while keeping a close eye on their illuminated surroundings.

Ray’s gut told him that they weren’t alone in the cavern, but so far he could sense no movement nearby.

A flicker of white below him was all the warning he had before a gaping maw filled with rows upon rows of serrated teeth was almost over them. The jaws were big enough to swallow all of them whole.

‘Scatter Now!’ Ray shouted, moving as fast as he could to the edge of the circumference of teeth.

The mouth snapped shut, missing his flukes by a finger's breadth. Lapis was ahead of him, and he was spun around and shoved into her body as the giant predator created a forceful wake with its passing. The creature banked left to avoid crashing into the ceiling, swimming away from Ray and Lapis. The commander attempted to gather his wits enough to plan a counterattack. He examined their attacker as its giant body slipped farther away, marking clearly its distinct features.

He cursed violently as he recognized the creature.

‘Megalodon!’ he shouted to his comrades, hoping them alive and not swallowed up by the prehistoric nightmare of a shark. 

‘What do we do?’ Lapis asked at his side.

‘Avoid getting eaten’ he replied.

‘It’s got Abby!’ he recognized Marlin’s voice coming from the side the Megalodon was swimming towards. ‘And it’s coming right at us!’

The giant shark’s body suddenly jerked, a faint light radiated from its torso. Not long afterwards, the cave was flooded with a fresh wave of blood forming a red cloud around them and reeked of burnt flesh.

‘All right Abby!’ he heard Marlin cheer.

‘Everybody, swim to the ceiling!’ Ray Issued his order, following word with deed with Lapis at his tail.

Once he was above the rapidly spreading blood cloud he generated an energy sphere for a beacon, watching the water glow pink around it. Marlin appeared first, dragging a torn and unconscious Abalone with him. Blade was next and it seems he didn’t make it out unscathed either, Ray noted, watching him wince with every slap of his fin. Ray swore as he saw the tear in his fluke. 

‘Teeth trapped my tail.’ He explained, seeing the inquiry on his commander’s face. ‘I had to tear myself loose.’

‘Razor?’ Lapis asked, making Ray notice for the first time that Blade’s Tiger Shark wasn’t with him.

‘He’s alive’ Blade assured, ‘but in a frenzy. He’s tearing at the Megalodon.’

‘Kelp! We don’t even know if it’s dead yet. We need to get out of here.’ Ray said.

‘No use. He’s just about unreachable in this state.’

‘It’s dead.’ came the soft spoken voice of the no longer unconscious Abby. ‘I exploded its heart.’

‘Hot damn, Woman!’ Marlin praised, still supporting the battered mermaid. ‘Remind me never to get on your bad side. It was coming at Blade and I with wide stretched jaws. I was so sure we were about to be shark chum’ he related to the squad, ‘when all of a sudden, Boom! Out of the jaws of death itself, Abby comes tumbling head over tail in a cloud of blood. A feat worthy of Bulma herself -’ 

‘Uh guys…’ Lapis interrupted, the fearful note in her tone drew everyone's attention instantly. ‘I think we have another Megalodon coming right at us.’

‘Neptune damn it!’ Ray swore, following her line of sight. Sure enough another prehistoric behemoth was swimming right at them, its leisurely pace and its smaller size made it easier to identity than the first monster who attacked them. The new shark suddenly picked up its pace, starting its charge with ever widening jaws.

The retrieval group was trapped between the ceiling and the slowly rising body of the other shark and had nowhere to swim to this time around. He met the eyes of each of his squad mates with a resigned sigh, vowing that if he found Bulma in the afterlife, he would kill her again for all the trouble she put him through to retrieve her sorry tail. Then squared his shoulders and prepared to meet his maker.

Suddenly, the creature’s trajectory shifted slightly and it slammed into the dead shark, pushing it further into the cave. Ray watched wide eyed as another Megalodon appeared out of the darkness and joined the feast.

‘Well,’ Marlin’s voice rang out in his mind, ‘I’ll say that’s our que to leave.’

‘I couldn’t agree more.’ Ray concurred.

‘Razor’s back and on the move again, so at least we have a direction.’ Blade said, following after his tracking partner. The rest followed in stunned silence.

‘You need to have that taken care of’, Abby said a while later. She was watching the slight hitch in Blade’s gait. Every tail flap seemed to cause more blood to stream out. 

‘I don’t think now would be such a great time for patch work, Abby.’ Blade replied tersely, ‘Seeing as we’re swimming through a cave filled with previously thought extinct monster sharks.’

‘Hey!’ Marlin piped up, ‘watch your tone, man. Abby was just offering to ease your pain.’

‘It’s okay Marlin, he’s right.’ Abby said softly.

‘He should show some respect, Abby, you saved all our tails back there.’

Blade suddenly spun around, coming face to face with Marlin ‘With all due _respect_ ,’ Blade bit out in a tone that sounded anything but respectful. ‘Abby should be the last person to be offering anybody any healing services, she’s bleeding from at least a dozen tears and cuts herself.’

Marlin’s eyes narrowed dangerously as he stared down his squad mate. Ray swam forward to intervene when Lapis’ hand on his arm stayed him.

‘You got something to say, Shark Boy? Why not come out and just say it.’ Blade’s jaw clenched, along with his first and Ray thought it best to intervene after all, when Blade’s eyes suddenly swung to his.

‘This mission is completely pointless.’ he blurted, stopping Ray in his wake. Blade then deliberately took a calming breath, and turned fully towards his Commander.

‘Bulma is dead, Ray.’ he said more softly. 

‘No she’s not.’ Ray denied, pointing towards Razor who was swimming restlessly up and down.

‘Razor is still on her trail. He’s going to find her.’

‘We’re swimming in a cave filled with Megalodons that nearly devoured us all. Megalodons, Ray! She can’t possibly be alive. The most he’ll find is probably pieces or things she left behind.’

‘You can’t know that!’ Ray continued his adamant denial, his own anger kicking up a notch.

‘Okay.’ Blade said soothingly, ‘You’re right. I can’t say for sure. But what are the odds, Captain? And even if she were alive. What business do we have retrieving her if she left on her own free will? We all know Bulma, Ray. She wouldn’t have up and left everything she cared about if there wasn’t a very good reason for it. If she was willing to swim through this hell hole to get away from the Council and we brought her back… well, we could well be delivering her to a fate worse than death.’

‘She can’t just swim away from her responsibilities.’ Ray stated, frustration evident in his tone.

‘Bulma can do what she damn well wants, Ray. You don’t give a damn about her shirking her responsibilities. You’re mad because she swam away from you!’

Ray’s next breath stalled in his gills. He looked with wide eyes at the averted faces of his teammates, and back to Blade’s challenging stare and felt heat flush up his neck to light his up his face. The instinct to deny was foremost in his mind. Again it was Lapis’ soft touch that stayed him and he turned toward her, catching her emphatic eyes.

‘No more lies Ray,’ was all she said. ‘Not even to yourself.’

‘Guys, I hate to interrupt this epiphany, but we need to move. We’ve got two mers bleeding all over the place in shark infested waters. Now is definitely not the time for heart to hearts.’ he stated with mild panic in his tone, and Rays eyes followed his line of sight, and cursed as he noted movement below them.

‘Razor, get us out of here.’ Blade hissed. The Tiger shark quickly shot off again, leading them further along the ceiling of the cavern until he disappeared into a hole.

The hole turned out to be a tunnel leading further upwards, and was only big enough to swim through single file. One by one the soldiers slipped through, grateful to leave the prehistoric death trap behind. The drag on the water became lighter the further up they swam and Ray knew he was nearing the surface.

They exited the tunnel and found themselves in another cavern… with more great White Sharks.

The cavern was small and most of the sharks were juveniles so Ray guessed that this was most likely a nursery for Great Whites.

Great, he thought sarcastically, the only thing worse than being considered Great White food, is being considered Baby White toys. Great Whites are notoriously curious, especially juveniles, and take a bite out of practically everything that’s foreign to them. Add blood into the equation and it’s a certifiably a merman’s (or mermaid’s) worse nightmare. Razor was sticking close to the mers, but was practically vibrating to move along as well. 

‘Marlin,’ he said, ‘You and I will hold off the approaching sharks. Lapis, you see to Abby and Blade’s wounds. Stop the bleeding.’

Their blood attracted quite a crowd and there were a few big ones prowling around in between the babies. Ray thought it best to keep them at a distance using beams instead of quick hand offs or whacking them with the blunt edge of their tridents. They managed to keep the sharks away while the team started moving again, following their tracker. That is, until they discovered a little grotto that was scorched all the way from floor to ceiling. The Sharks following them immediately veered off and left the passing mermaids.

Ray swam to the nearest boulder and swiped his fingers over the surface. It was cracked and burnt black. His eyes took in the pattern of the scorch marks and traced the origins of the blast to a small crater in the floor. The residue of energy was so strong even he could identify it.

‘Bulma had definitely been here,’ he said unnecessarily.

‘Something attacked her.’ Abby added, also looking around. ‘Whatever it was couldn’t possibly be alive judging by the blast radius. 

Razor was speeding in circles, catching their eyes.

‘What is he doing?’ Ray asked, trepidation in his voice.

‘Blood,’ Blade answered, ‘he’s indicating that her blood is here.’

The Tiger shark suddenly shot to the ceiling, where four stalagmites were arranged in diamond formation around a hole. Razor wiggled his body through the hole, disturbing the dirt and floating white silt down to them. Ray caught a glimmer of blue in the silt and rushed toward it. A single blue scale floated onto his hand. In the light of his gaze he saw the scale flicker green and then purple.

His princess was close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who didn't watch 'The Meg' yet...   
> A Megalodon is a prehistoric shark, roughly five to ten times the length of its modern-day cousin: the adult Great White.


	17. Priorities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma has to come to terms that whatever is happening between her and Vegeta is always going to be secondary to his goals.  
> Meanwhile, Ray and his team make some shocking discoveries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forecast for this chapter:  
> A short acidic, lemon shower.
> 
> Also, my work is unbeta'd so please gimme a heads up if I missed anything spelling or grammar wise

The fresh mountain air was instantly replaced by the scents and scenery of West City as Bulma was teleported back to Capsule Corp. She waited for the initial dizziness to pass that seemed to accompany instant transmission. Rubbing at a kink in her shoulder, Bulma considered the crazy haired Saiyan beside her and his slave-driving wife.

“I’m telling you Goku,” she started, “If your wife were a mermaid, I would have hired her as one of my elite guards immediately. Does she know she’s wasting her talent slaving over cooking pots?” she teased.

At the mention of cooking, Goku’s stomach rumbled loudly, his hand flying to it, seeming to rub it soothingly. Bulma laughed.

“I don’t know If I fully agree with that, Bulma. She makes a mean sweet and sour pork dumpling. I’d say her talent is properly applied.”

“Is that Goku the warrior speaking - or Goku the bottomless pit?”

To that his head tilted to the side, face scrunched up like he was contemplating a life changing epiphany.

“Chichi was a martial artist when we met. Our dates mostly consisted of eating then sparring the day away… When she was expecting Gohan, though, it feels like she became a different person overnight. I can’t say I don’t miss my warrior princess, but I definitely enjoy the wifely side of her much more.” he said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

“Why Goku, you devil. You’re not as dimwitted as I was led to believe.”

To which her reply was a mischievous grin. 

“I guess it doesn’t really matter whether she decides to spend her time training or cooking, As long as she’s happy, I’m fine with either.”

Bulma could suddenly see why so many people were drawn to this unconventional warrior. His simplicity was disarming, but he had a hidden intelligence that snuck up on you and demanded your respect, despite his apparent naivety.

Another rumble floated from the vicinity of Goku’s gut and he straightened like a soldier at attention.

“Well, gotta jet,” he said, “sure you don’t want to join us for dinner?”

“After seeing the way you Saiyans eat, I’m not sure there’ll be enough to share.”

“Suit yourself,” he said with a shrug, and disappeared.

It was sunset, and that meant she had been without sleep for over 36 hours and her body was definitely protesting the abuse. Almost every muscle in her body ached with exhaustion and strain. Despite all of that, the sight of Vegeta’s spandex-clad body, lazing with deceptive casualness against the domed wall of the complex still sent a tingle of heat through her body, and her heart rate sped up with anticipation. 

“Hey Vegeta,” she called, opting for casual as well, “spying on me, are you?”

He scoffed gruffly. “Colluding with my arch nemesis, Woman? Where’s your sense of loyalty?”

“Oh please.” she said with an eye roll, “ You make it sound as if you’re actively plotting his demise.”

“I am” 

“Oh really? To me it seems that Goku’s no worse than an arch rival and you’re inflated sense of pride just won’t admit it.” she said airily, attempting to pass him. His hand caught her wrist.

“Bulma.” he said with a tone that indicated their bantering was over. She turned to face him, noting his serious expression warily. He held her eyes for a moment before speaking.

“I’m leaving; in a week’s time.”

“Leaving where?” she asked in slight bewilderment.

“Space. I need to train.”

She blinked… twice. Not fully understanding. Then her confusion quickly gave way to hurt. Oh… she was all too familiar with this sequence of events. He was no-better than that no-good ranch-hand José in her favorite soap Amor en el Rancho. She suddenly felt distinctly used, the sensation a crushing ache in her chest. He wanted her body and now that he had it, he was discarding her. 

Mentally replaying all of their interactions, she looked for some sign that what they had together was not as mutual as she first thought.

“Space?” she finally responded in a cool tone, her face a mask of what she hoped was nonchalance as she attempted to hide her hurt feelings from him. “Why space? Why can’t you train here?

“It’s not… optimal.”

“Not optimal how?”

“Dammit Woman, just accept that I can’t reach my full potential here on Earth”

Her calm facade splintered. 

“Don’t ‘Dammit Woman’ me, you arrogant son of an Eel-bastard. How the kelp am I supposed to feel when…” Feeling her eyes prickling alarmingly, Bulma suddenly realized that she was making a scene worthy of the jilted senorina, Valentina in Amor en el Rancho. She looked around warily. Deciding it best not to air dirty laundry -as the human’s say - where people like her colleagues can see them, she switched to telepathy.

‘How do you think I feel,’ she continued into his mind, ‘when, after last night... you so easily dismiss me like an inadequate guppy. Now you’re telling me that you’re leaving… have you no considerations for my feelings at all? Couldn’t you, at least pretend that it meant something?’

“Your feelings are stupid, Woman. I'm simply doing what’s necessary. An example you’ll do well to imitate.” he answered her aloud.

‘So that’s it, then? You got what you wanted, and now you’re moving on?’

“Oh for fuck’s sake. Don’t be so sensitive. This is exactly the reason I can’t stay on this wretched Mud Ball: you and your emotional bullshit are wreaking havoc on my concentration. I can’t focus when you’re around. You’re a distraction.”

His words felt like a blow to the chest. She felt like she was breaking apart inside. If this was the consequences of being in love then she wanted no part of it. Her eyes prickled again and she clenched her jaw in frustration. If he didn’t care about her then she’ll be damned before she let him see how much he hurt her. He wasn’t the only one with pride.

Bulma squared her shoulders and met the black depths of his stare. Forcing her insecurities down, she asked the million-zenny question:

“So, where does this leave us?”

His brows forked downwards, as he noted her sudden icy countenance. Bulma’s eyes widened, when instead of keeping his own stone demeanor firmly in place, his gaze became molten with passion. He stepped into her body until they stood nose to nose.

“This changes nothing between us, you daft fish.” He spat heatedly, “You’ve given yourself to me. That makes you mine, Bulma. Better get used to it.”

Relief felt like a lazy tidal wave washing over her, thawing her from head to toe. The note of possession in his voice made her hot in all the right places. And just like that. She melted. He must have sensed it too because she was suddenly hauled into his hard body, his hand immediately finding the curve of her ass and lifting, prompting her to wrap her legs around his waist. The dizzying sensation of flying fast ended abruptly when cool sheets hit her back. Her clothes came off quickly and his even faster. Before she had time to gather her breath he was on her; and then inside her with a quick brutal thrust. There was no foreplay this time, but she was already half-slick with welcoming juices, accepting him with only a little difficulty.

He paused, letting her body adjust to the burning intrusion, so when he eventually started rocking into her, the pressure quickly bloomed into pleasure that echoed up her spine to the base of her neck with every thrust. His hands captured her wrists and he squeezed, just enough to make her feel notably restrained. He knew just how to work her body to maximize her pleasure. Their long night together endowed him with the intimate knowledge of all the secret places her body needed to be stroked. And Bulma, unaccustomed to the responses of her own body, learned with him. He kept a slightly painful grip on her wrists above her head, his superior strength preventing her from moving; preventing her from clawing at his back as she so desperately wanted to. She was at his mercy and he made her feel it. Bulma was a strong woman, someone used to being in command. That was why she was more than a little surprised when she realized that she had a strong sexual need to surrender, to submit Vegeta’s dominant tendencies... At least, that had been the case the previous evening. 

Now, his absolute control suddenly felt disconcerting. His grip felt restrictive. His power over her heart felt dangerous. 

The trust she had in him the past evening, when she gave him her body, suddenly felt so fragile. He was abandoning her, a little irrational voice inside Bulma screamed with indignation and she suddenly resented his hold on her both emotionally and physically. 

Acting mostly on instinct, she wrenched her wrists from his grip, uncaring of the twinge of pain accompanying the action. His eyes widened slightly in surprise and he faltered in his rhythm. She used the opportunity to push at his chest. He followed her body’s cues, despite the confusion evident in his expression. She had no words of explanation for him, just the needs of her body. He caught on fast enough however, when she pushed his back to the bed, catching her hips when she proceeded to straddle his waist. His confused gaze gave way to heat as he watched her lower herself onto him, agonizingly slow.

She set the pace this time, his hand on her hips steadying her as her body undulated as if she were back in the ocean, milking every drop of pleasure from their joining. In that moment, she forgot the hurt and the pain and feelings of abandonment. She forgot everything and just felt. Focussing solely on the way he made her feel; the fiery drag of him all through her sensitive inner tissues, the intense pressure deep inside as she sank back down, impaling him to the hilt with lazily rolling hips. She emerged herself in the kaleidoscope of sensation, watching his reaction to her every movement. And when his gaze became too hard to bear, she threw back her head, let the tips of her hair trail over his thighs, and rode until she felt her lower abdomen clench and spasm, signaling her readiness to come. Then she slid her hand across her belly, down between her thighs to find the little bud at the top of her sex. Using her index finger to rub tight little circles around it, she launched herself right over the edge. Pleasure shot like arcs of lightning from her womb outward to the extremities of her body like a massive inner explosion. She was vaguely aware of Vegeta. His own grip tightening on her hips. She barely heard his guttural mutterings of intergalactic expletives. Her focus remained solely on the point where they were joined. She felt his seed pulsing into her as he found his own crest, felt her own walls still fluttering around him rhythmically. It was a while before she became fully aware of her surroundings outside that.

The first sensation she registered beyond her own pleasure was the wet streaks trailing off the side of her face into her hair.

Tears.

Such a strange occurrence. It felt completely foreign to have water running out from her eyes, yet logically she knew that land dwellers do it all the time. Since she was a land dweller now too, it stands to reason that it would happen to her. It was like her emotions were too much for her body to contain: sadness, love, fear, frustration, and now it was leaking from her eyes. So stupid… yet, why couldn’t she stop?

Though her view was currently of the ceiling, she was aware of Vegeta watching her warily through their mental bond. His emotions, however, were carefully closed off from her. He was tracing slow circles on her hips, with his thumbs, finding the symmetrical circles that formed part of her lumo-pattern that was etched into her skin even in human form. The sensation raised goosebumps on her skin, reminding her that he was still with her. He wasn’t gone yet. To continue wallowing in melancholy would be a waste of their time left together.

“When will you be back?” she suddenly asked, her voice a little hoarse. She still kept her gaze on the ceiling and let out a surprised gasp when she felt herself being swung around. Her back hit the mattress and she was once again face to face with her frowning lover as he loomed over her. He had yet to retreat from her body, she noted.

“Only weaklings let their emotions rule them” he lectured, and she sneered at the insult. “You need to get stronger. I need to achieve the Legendary Super Saiyan. That is the first priority. Whatever is between us now comes after.” 

When he says it that way it really is hard to stay angry at him, Bulma thought with a defeated sigh.

“Stop frowning at me, Vegeta, I see your point.” she scolded. “I don’t have to like it but that doesn’t mean I don’t see the wisdom of your words.”

“Good” he said with a self satisfied smirk. He hissed as he withdrew from her, leaving a sticky residue in his wake. He spills his seed into her without restraint, she thought idly, recalling once again the details of the prophecy. She wondered if Vegeta had considered it too. 

Bulma had long since quit trying to circumvent the path that the Gods have set out for her. They had not led her astray thus far. If her heir was meant to save the planet, then who was she to prevent his birth. What shall be will be, she decided pragmatically.

With a lazy, satisfied grin, she watched Vegeta’s firm backside disappear into the attached bathroom and chewed on the corner of her lip. The shower switched on not a minute later. As a mermaid, she always thought the most attractive feature of the opposite sex was their slightly larger and thicker tails. The strength it represented as she watched them flex and burst forward with little to no difficulty. Female tails were slimmer and more flexible, built for agility and maneuverability, while Mermen could use their powerful tails very effectively as a club. It always sent a shiver down her spine despite the fact that she was destined to remain chaste… but damn, she thought with a little flutter in her womb as she recalled the sight of Vegeta’s ass disappearing into the bathroom. There is definitely something about a pair of muscular legs and firm buttocks that couldn't be denied. The way it tightened with each step made her itch to take a bite. Neptune dammit, she needed to stop this train of thought before she lost all control and jumped him in the shower. She was too exhausted for another romp. Plus, she was kind of tender. A relaxing swim in her tank should soothe all those pleasantly aching places… after a nice long nap, that is.

She flopped back onto the bed, sighing, and considered her immediate problems. She had too many duties. Although she hate admitting it, Vegeta was right. She needed to get her priorities sorted and her continued study on the daily life of the land-dwellers should be scrapped from her schedule. No more Amor en el Rancho! She chided herself sternly. She needed to put more time and effort into training. Her correspondence Engineering degree will also have to be put on hold till the earth is safe. From now on, the only research she will need to be doing is research into a manner to destroy the androids. To destroy the androids however she needs to be able to create them. She would have to ask doctor Briefs’ opinion on the matter, surely he’ll be able to point her into the right direction. She couldn't abandon Gohan’s tutoring however, since it was the bargaining material for her own training. Her head suddenly hurt. Simplifying one’s life isn’t as easy as she had hoped. It was probably a good thing that he was leaving, she thought with a self-depreciating sigh. She could not deny that they distracted each other oh so deliciously from their respective goals. She wouldn’t, however, admit that to him under pain of death. 

Yes… things will certainly be much simpler, albeit much duller too, with His Pompousness out of the way.

* * *

When his team exited the tunnel, they were at first nearly blinded by the brightness of the water. The water was turquoise blue around them, as if lit by a school of bioluminescent jellies all round them. In awe, Ray followed the streaks of light from the water surface until it illuminated a world full of bright colors as far as he could see. Corals were bright red, tiny fish swam around in all shades and patterns. It seemed a paradise. It was the not-so-mythical Reef. So distracted by this new world that he almost missed their audience:

Two mermen were swimming towards them, their features too far away to make out. It was when they drew close enough to identify them that his jaw went slack with shock, for they were not mermammal as he was, neither seph or eel-kin. What he had first assumed was a closely cropped hairstyle turned out to be darkly-colored skin. Their fins swished vertically from side-to-side and not up and down like the Mammalians. These were Selachimorphians, or more commonly known as mersharks. 

Ray straightened his spine, trying to recall everything he could about this species of mer. The foremost fact in his mind was that they were cannibals . 

‘Incoming’ he announced, and like a well oiled machine his squad followed his lead, positioning themselves defensively, their tridents at a ready. Upon observing their defensive party, the approaching mers froze, seemed to confer some private communication and then continued toward them at a notably slower pace.

Ray was not the only one who noticed the peculiarity of their company.

‘Lieutenant…’ came Marlin’s hesitant voice, ‘Is that...?’

‘I thought they were extinct.’ Lapis chimed in.

‘Obviously not.’ Ray answered tersely.

‘What do you want to do, Lieutenant?’ asked Lapis.

‘Hold,’ he ordered, ‘wait for hostile intent.”

‘Peace friends’ one of them said as soon as they reached broadcasting range. 

‘We mean you know harm.’ the other injected. The two stopped before their party, a non threatening distance away. Ray noted however, that they did not sheath their weapons.

‘We have come searching for our lost companion’ Ray called out, opting for diplomacy which prompted a reaction of raised eyebrows on the unknown mers faces. After conferring silently, one of the mermen swam a little closer towards Ray's team. Ray’s skin prickled. 

‘We do not get much in the sense of travellers this way.’ he spoke directly to Ray. ‘If you are amenable, you may accompany us to the village. There you will find the answers you seek.’ Then he turned away and started back with his companion. 

Eager to follow the first solid lead they’ve had in what seemed an eternity, Ray made to follow, only to feel a delicate hand grip his wrist. He turned to meet the worried gaze of Lapis. ‘You do not know that it is safe’ she reminded gently, sensing his eagerness. Then she grinned slyly before adding. ‘Let’s ask them first, shall we?’

Returning her grin, Ray halted his advance then called out to the retreating mermen.

The same one swam towards them again. Ray noted that his tail was a pale shade spotted with brown. The spots seemed to lighten to mere shadows as his tail met his torso and appeared again as a light dusting of brown on the crown of his head. The other, seemingly subordinate merman was light-grey from top to tail, with his belly face and torso being the only soft and pale-fleshed parts. Their human parts look remarkably like that of the mammalian mers except for their teeth and pupils which resembled that of their shark-counterparts. However, it was still disconcerting to note the vertical sway of their tails. 

‘Before we accompany you,’ Ray said to the sharkmers, ‘We need some guarantee that we will not come to any harm in your village.’ 

The spotted mer seemed to hesitate momentarily, then nodded his aquascience.

‘I need the words’ Lapis interjected before they turned to go again. This seemed to garner her an odd look from the strange mermen, but they answered anyway.

‘You shall be safe and treated with hospitality in our village. I give you my word.’ _Spotty_ said, somewhat exasperated. _Murky_ looked mildly offended. Ray looked towards Lapis for verification, who in turn looked towards the rest of the team before confirming ‘Truth’.

Ray observed his squad that currently seated around him. All of his team members still wore the slightly bewildered look of expectations unmet. All except Marlin, who was currently stuffing his twelfth shark-maki into his mouth while Blade watched on with a not-very-well concealed queasy look on his face. To meet a half-legendary tribe of cannibalistic-berserker mers that were thought to have gone extinct centuries past and have them calmly serve you fine-cuisine and tell you to ‘please wait a moment’ on an audience with their elders - like it was the most natural thing in the world would throw any self-respecting soldier off his game. At least they were making progress with their search, for at least now they had enough information, thanks to Ray needling it out of their escort on the way to the village. A blue haired mermaid had been temporarily hosted by the mersharks, but she had left shortly afterwards. Ray tried to get more but their escort clammed up when he tried to interrogate him as to the manner of her leaving or her destination. Suffice to say, Ray was starting to have doubts about their hosts. Something was definitely amiss, and besides Marlin - who was still stuffing his gob - they all seemed to sense it. Ray was starting to get twitchy waiting for these ‘elders’ to grace them with their presence. He felt Abby’s hand settle onto his shoulder, squeezing gently and tried to take a calming breath.

Suddenly the doors swung open and _Murky_ from their escort swam through.

‘The elders will see you now’ he announced and left again, prompting Ray and his team to follow. For the second time in what appeared a very short time, Ray found himself before a panel of leaders once again. One separated himself from the rest of the panel and swam forward.

‘I am Zyke’ he said, ‘I shall speak on behalf of this council. We have been informed that you seek one of yours.’

‘And your patrolman has confirmed that she was here.’ he answered. ‘I am Ray. This is my team.’ he indicated to his companions, ‘The mermaid that we seek is very important to our monarchy. We would like to return her to her home.’

‘Ah... I see, and would she have liked to return home with you, I wonder.’ Zyke replied, seemingly to himself, to which Ray remained silent. It was a moot point if Bulma had already left again anyway. Which reminded Ray: ‘I was told she is no longer in your care.’

‘No unfortunately not. She couldn’t stay, even if she wanted to. You see, your young warrior mermaid had a higher purpose. Her coming to us was prophesied, so was her leaving.’

Ray felt the blood freezing in his veins. A look at his teammates revealed expressions ranging from disbelieve, to warriness to outrage - himself falling in the latter category. Blade, who’s wound was treated upon arrival, looked like he lost all the blood he had just recently recovered.

‘Explain yourself!’ Ray shouted. Things could not get more convoluted without adding another prophecy to the cauldron. Undaunted by Ray’s outburst, Zyke continued his narrative, relating how Bulma’s arrival - which Ray only then discovered was another heart-stopping ordeal altogether - set in motion a series of events that had his princess coming face to face with a monster of legend, the Imoogi of all things, and ended with her swimming fiercely into its coils which would apparently lead to her retrieving the one that will unite Land and Sea. Now where had he heard that one before… he thought sarcastically. 

Ray’s head was throbbing. His thoughts were spinning. The meeting had ended a while ago, the water was again a soothingly familiar dark blue. His team had once again returned to the quarters they were assigned to for the evening after he sent them out to verify the story that the elder Zyke had relayed to them. According to Lapis everyone they interviewed spoke truth of what they witnessed. The events of the offering ceremony happened exactly as it was described to him in the meeting. His princess was spirited away by a colossal sea serpent.

He attempted to make sense of what was happening and what he knew to be true. Lapis was staring at him strangely, but he had no inclination to address her at that moment. It was all so far-fetched he was almost tempted to believe that everyone in that Neptune-forsaken place was part of some delusional cult taking hallucinogens to induce fantastical visions… And yet, it was all to much of a coincidence, he admitted: their people’s prophecy, the Shark-people’s ‘Vessel’ prophecy, Bulma leaving, Marron’s supposed confession and now this place. The legends; all true and validated by the existence of their very location. How could he refute the existence of something everyone in that place had already witnessed. How could he deny that Bulma might have left, not because of fear, but because it was her destiny to do so. What does this mean for him? For this quest? Are they circumventing destiny by trying to retrieve her? 

He eyed Abby, who was sleeping soundly. Trying to recover as soon as possible. She’d taken care of Blade’s wounds and patched up her own scrapes and was now trying to recover her energy she spent on the chi-healing arts. Blade was outside the door, keeping watch. What should he tell them? Should they continue on this quest?

‘Even if what they told us is true...’ Lapis interrupted his train of thought.

‘Hundreds of witnesses Lapis!’ He snapped, suddenly angry. ‘Accounts validated by a truthseer, by you!’

‘Look on the bright side, Barracuda’ Marlin interjected, ‘She’s probably still alive and well.’

‘Yeah - and out there getting impregnated by some land-dweller’ Ray sneered, his stomach rolling uneasily at the idea of it.

‘Exactly.’ said, Marlin before seeming to backtrack ‘wait, what… dude. Gross’

‘Regardless,’ Lapis started again ‘Even so, we told the Council that we’d return her to her home. To her rightful place as next in line to the throne. Just because there are external forces at work here doesn’t mean our own quest is fruitless. Think about it, she has to come back anyway. She is destined to birth the King that will usher in a new era.’

‘“Heir to Land and to the Sea.”’Abby’s thoughts echoed groggily in their minds. ‘A united earth’ she said with wonder. Ray’s gaze swung towards Abby, now awake.

‘Hey sleepyhead.’ he said softly, ‘How long have you been awake?’

‘Just a few minutes.’

‘How are you feeling?’

‘Much better, thanks… I think Lapis is right. We shouldn’t quit this quest. For all we know we are also pawns in this divine game, destined to return Bulma and her heir to our home.’

‘I hear you, but there’s something else you guys are not thinking about. Bulma might be out there getting freaky with some two-legged lug, right?’ Marlin said, ‘Who says she wants to come back at all?’

‘Well somehow she is… coming back, that is’ Lapis answered. ‘Something pushed her into going to the surface. Fate, destiny, the gods.. I don’t care but she ended up going right where she was foretold to go. Well, the prophecy is not done and she has to return. By hook or crook, the fate of the world depends on it apparently. Bulma will come back and we’ll be coming back with her, right Ray?’

‘Right.’ Ray confirmed, feeling the determination building in him anew. He was still on the right path. He would find Bulma and he would bring her home. If that is her destiny then whatever she has with the surface-dweller is temporary, right?

‘Alright!’ Marlin cheered. ‘The adventure is still a-go. I wonder what the surface is like?’


	18. Mermaid Biology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta leaves earth to train and Bulma makes a unsurprising discovery in his absence.  
> Ray and his team finally reach the shore...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I updated but I've been a bit under the weather: nothing to serious or global pandemic related, thank goodness.  
> Forecast for this chapter: Just a bit of zest.

Bulma collapsed back onto her stomach, panting, waiting for her vision to return. When it did she was facing the corded veins on Vegeta’s flexed forearm as it lay on the rumpled bed linens over her shoulder. His thighs rested heavily between her own, pressing it deep into the side of the mattress and she could feel his diaphragm expanding and contracting on her lower back as he came down from his own peak. Today marks five days since the announcement of his departure, which makes… Bulma tried to count how many times he’d taken her to bed since, but her brain was still muggy. Their copulation was not limited to the evenings, as evidenced by the sun streaming through the curtains at this very moment. Nor was it limited to once a day either. She wasn’t taking any form of contraception. He knew it and he must know what the consequences could be and yet... he withholds nothing. So far they haven’t broached the subject of a possible pregnancy yet. Their hours together are often... otherwise spent. The past few days have seen a gradual increase in the frenzy of their lovemaking. Today he seemed almost desperate in his attempt to imprint himself on her. Her skin was blooming with red marks from his ‘hickeys’ as they call it, and the little nips he gave on her neck and on the inside of her thighs left twin indents from his sharp canines. Her thighs were slick with his essence and he was currently lazily trailing his tongue over her back. Bulma knew what it meant, she’d known since yesterday that the Gravity Trainer was almost fully stocked for a year long Space Trip. He was leaving soon; tomorrow at the latest probably. The thought caused a sudden tightness in her chest that had nothing to do with his weight on her back. She felt his breath on her neck as he sighed deeply and rose. 

‘Woman’ he began cautiously, and she turned to face him, resting on her elbows. He looked wary. ‘My departure is scheduled for twenty-two hundred hours tonight.’ he finished, watching her in return. Bulma felt her jaw clenched as she absorbed the information. She took a deep breath, and sighed. She had known it was coming and so was determined not to wallow… at least not until after he had left. Deciding a lighter mood was in order, she chose to change the subject.

“You know,” she started, a mischievous twinkle in her eye, “I’ve been wondering how sex compares in my aqualine-form. Is it as mind blowing with a tail as it is with legs?” 

His face momentarily portrayed relief at her seemingly easy acceptance of his news, then his eyebrows rose lecherously. 

“I guarantee it would be even better if I still had _my_ tail.” he said with a smirk before reaching out grabbing a lock of her hair. Using the fuzzy edges he started tracing a circle around the peak of the breast closest to him, so softly it was almost ticklish. “It was long.” He continued, eyes on her tightening nipple, “It had fine, extremely soft brown fur, about as thick as your wrist and was _very_ dexterous,’ he said, his voice dropped an octave, sending a shiver down her spine and her belly fluttered just imagining all sorts of kinky scenarios involving his tail. She squeezed her thighs together, amazed that her body could react this way after it was satisfied so thoroughly not even five minutes prior. A quick peek at his lap verified that she wasn’t the only one with naughty thoughts.

“Well,” she said with a breathy giggle, “that is quite a fascinating piece of information. However, I was referring to _my_ tail.”

“I admit, I am curious as to the logistics of merpeople coupling. What exactly happens to your… uhm parts when you transform?”

“It’s all still there I guess, relatively in the same place but concealed behind scales. The scales are much more rubbery, you know, down there. Makes for, uh, easy passage” she said, suddenly feeling heat creeping up her face. This was so not where she was going when she started the conversation. When she met his eyes he was watching her expectantly. She cleared her throat awkwardly, deciding how to continue. “Remember I only know any of this in a theoretical sense and from inadvertent observation during my time in the, uh, barracks.” she stumbled her explanation, and from his face she noted her bumbling caused much amusement on his part. The pig! He was enjoying this. No more! She determined, channeling her inner tutor she went full on lecture mode and decided to give him the most clinical, biological correct explanation possible. She cleared her throat.

“When the male genitalia of the merman becomes aroused it emerges from its pouch.” she rushed through “Much like that of humans but a lot longer and… and thinner” she faltered and ended lamely, catching sight of his expression. His lips were twitching. She ignored him. ‘“To uh, insert the uhm aroused sh..shaft they kind of entwine their tails and uh just…” she realized he was unconsciously demonstrating the movement using her hands. She met Vegeta’s eyes again. He seemed to be holding it together by a thread. Her face felt inflamed and Bulma just knew she had failed miserably in her attempt to be clinical. “Don’t you dare!” she warned, pointing her finger in a threatening manner, but to no avail, he burst out laughing, peered at her, and laughed harder. “Gods, Woman, your face!” he got out between guffaws. 

“I don’t find this amusing at all.” she lied, trying to control her own twitchy lips. 

“Oh it’s beyond hilarious.” to which she replied by launching herself over him. His laughter ended abruptly as she straddled him. Hands beside his head with their noses almost touching, she whispered, “Not so funny anymore, I am?” to which her only reply was him tauntingly raising an eyebrow. Challenge Accepted. She thought, sliding down his torso until her mouth was at the apex of his thighs. “You know,” she said saucily, “It’s about time I tried this.” She gave one last teasing grin, and went to work.

* * *

Vegeta was woken by the sudden appearance of his nemesis’ ki in his sleeping quarters. He sat up abruptly, only reminded that Bulma was draped on top of him by her indignant squawk as she fell off the bed, dragging half the sheets with her and exposing his dangly parts to his rival.

“What the hell, Vegeta!” she shouted, a blue-tangled head popping up at the side of the bed at the same time Vegeta was screaming “Kakarot!”

“Kakarot?” the now enraged blue-haired a harpy screeched hysterically catching sight of the interloper, and started fumbling with the bedsheets to cover herself.

“Oops, my bad.” was all the fool could say for himself before disappearing again. Vegeta noted that he hadn’t gone far, down to the Brief’s kitchen actually. He looked towards Bulma, who was staring at him in bewilderment. Her lips were puffy and swollen, and he suddenly remembered just how much havoc those talented lips could wreck on his control. The woman had no gag reflex, he recalled with awe, and wondered if it was a mermaid thing. The thought made his chest rumble with a growl, the stirrings of arousal awakening his body. His hands fisted in the sheets as he was reminded that he would be leaving her behind in a few short hours. These last few days he’d been fucking her like a man possessed, desperate to find some way to brand her as his, to make her stay when he’d be gone, yet also needing to find away to keep her from the battlefield when the time comes. Breeding her could accomplish both ends. They both knew the chances she would get pregnant are good but, with that damned prophecy it could also be the very thing that takes her from him. He couldn’t lose her, the thought sent an icy sense of dread through him. She was his future, his hope for something other than the rage, regret and thirst for vengeance and glory that had been his driving force for most of his life. And yet, the fact that he’d come to need someone other than himself so desperately in such a short time both frustrated and scared the shit out of him. Attachments were weaknesses your enemies can use against you. He knew this. He’d done it himself. He needed to keep her far out of their enemies site, to hide his weakness. Make them think she was nothing to him. It’s an easy feat, but for the risk of Bulma believing it herself and leaving anyway, hence the long hours spent in her bed. She needs to know what she means to him _now_ , he thought, before he leaves, because afterwards, until his enemies were destroyed, she would be less significant to him than a speck of dust beneath his boot.

She was still fidgeting with the sheet, trying to fashion some sort of wrap. He rolled his eyes.

“Get back up here, you foolish woman.” he ordered arrogantly.

“But.. Kaka- I mean Goku -”

“Kakarot can wait.”

“But what if he appears while -”

“He wouldn’t dare. Now get that ‘sparkly blue tail’ back into bed.”

Bulma stood up and followed his instruction, moving to lay in front of him. He eyed her bent knees critically.

“Spread’em.” 

She complied, smiling slyly and said “Yes, please”

* * *

A freshly showered Bulma entered the kitchen to find a mountainous spread laid out on the tables. Peeking out from behind that spread was a few tufts of spiky black hair. Goku, it seemed was already making a sizable dent in the food, completely oblivious to the embarrassment he caused by his instant transmission.

“Goku, you idiot. How many times must I tell you you can’t just teleport into a person’s private space.” she scolded exasperated as she sunk down into an empty chair. 

“Bulma, honey. Is Mr. Vegeta going to be down anytime soon. I’m afraid his Going-Away feast won’t last if he waits much longer.” Mrs. Brief commented from her spot in front of the oven. She was currently wearing a pink frilly apron over her signature boob-tube and capris outfit, eyes on the ever expanding lump of cake-batter. Its buttery-vanilla aroma was already filling the room, making Bulma’s tummy rumble. She grabbed a plate and started dishing.

“Kakarot!” Vegeta bellowed from somewhere upstairs. “You’d better not be eating my food!”

“He is!” Bulma replied, raising her own voice. “You better hurry. It’s going fast.”

Vegeta suddenly appeared beside Goku. The only evidence of his arrival being Bulma’s blue hair blowing violently around her face and a loud fleshy thwap. Through her still settling tresses obscuring her vision, Bulma noted Goku’s palm wrapped around Vegeta’s fist inches from the earth-Saiyan’s jaw. A challenging smirk on Goku’s face. He may act the idiot 80% of the time, Bulma thought wryly, but a Saiyan, apparently stays a Saiyan no matter his upbringing. 

“Hiya Vegeta.” Goku said, the Saiyan-smirk melting into a cheeky grin. 

“Kakarot” Vegeta hissed through clenched teeth.

“I heard you’ taking off for space.” he said, and Vegeta suddenly shot her an accusatory frown.

“I didn’t say anything” Bulma defended.

“What’s it to you, Kakarot?” Vegeta spat. Goku suddenly regarded Bulma, his narrowed gaze dropped to her lap for a moment before a frown settled on his brow. Bulma squired, discomfited by his sudden interest. “What? Did I drop something” she said, smoothing her robe over her lap self-consciously.” 

“Is there a particular reason you’re ogling my woman, Clown?” Vegeta said, his voice suddenly dangerously low.

“What?” Goku asked, taken aback and jerked his attention away from Bulma. “That is - uhm. Just wanted to wish you well. Good luck Vegeta. Gotta go, bye.” He stammered and disappeared. Both of them stared at his vacant seat in bewilderment.

“What was that all about?” she asked, scratching her head to which her reply was a dismissive “Hmm” as Vegeta took his own seat and started stacking plates.

* * *

The Briefs man did a good job at replicating his standard issue galactic armor, Vegeta thought, as he clipped the final piece in place. It had the added benefit of being able to deflect ki like the inside of his Gravity room and his training bots. His only critique being that it was rigid, and not elastic like his previous armor. For that they required a special alloy mined on Freeza planet 56. He wondered if it was still called so now that the Colds were exterminated. Well, with the exception of Cooler. No matter though. It’s not as if he can still transform into the Oozaru. He thought, pragmatically. The armor will do as is. He did a quick sweep of the complex, locating his woman's ki-signature close to where his ship waited. _Pity._ He was hoping they could say their final farewells in private.

The laboratory was bustling with activity. People in white lab coat were moving around, pressing buttons and watching screens. In his peripheral he caught sight of Bulma in her tank, swimming lazily around the center control panel.

“Good timing Vegeta.” Briefs voice chimed from somewhere in the bustle. “We were just finishing our final diagnostics.” Vegeta ignored the scientist, turning fully towards the mermaid. He watched, almost hypnotized as her body surged and her tail rippled. It was sapphire blue, like her eyes, but if viewed at a certain angle it also shimmered green or purple. The kaleidoscope reminded him of one of the beetle species he witnessed on this planet while he was training on the island. Her tail emitted a faintly incandescent glow, her hair and eyes as well; eyes that sparkled with mischief as she made another lazy sweep past him. Her scales grew around her navel and ended below her breasts in the shape of a V. Her breasts, at least, were covered. _In a manner of speaking_ , Vegeta thought and scoffed, eyeing the tiny scraps of triangular material barely enclosing her ample bosom.

‘The water is great, Vegeta. Why don’t you come in?’ Vegeta snorted. The woman was well aware he was preparing to depart. ‘Don’t I get a goodbye kiss?’ she added teasingly with a pout.

‘Time for kissing has passed, Mermaid.’ he answered her telepathically. ‘My destiny awaits.’ he said arrogantly, catching sight of her exasperated eye-roll, and walked towards his ship.

The lab technicians were busily unplugging and clearing the space around his ship. He watched the Briefs doctor lift a panel on the side, where the fuel intake was located, and press a button. With a poof of smoke his ship vanished and Briefs picked up the capsule. He looked it over critically and tossed it to Vegeta. 

“All yours my boy. Try not to blow this one up.” Vegeta smirked.

* * *

Bulma's arm drifted slowly from one side of her body to the other. Her weight was braced on her left leg while the right was cocked forward at an angle, resting on pointed toe and ready for quick forward snap if the need arose. It wouldn’t. The purpose of the T’ai chi routine she was currently doing was not to promote violence, but to direct and align one’s ki to promote balance and inner peace. In her peripheral Chichi was leading the Solo*. Bulma let her mind wander, allowing her body to fall into the flowing rhythm of the routine.

It’s been three weeks since she watched Vegeta’s ship disappear into the sky, trying her damnedest to hold back that infernal eye-leakage that seemed to prickle just beneath the surface. Vegeta said tears were a sign of weakness, and weakness should be hidden at all costs. Still, she missed him dearly. Especially in the mornings as she subconsciously reached for the warm body beside her, only to find the bed empty and the sheets cold.

“Bulma-san?” Chichi’s voice broke into her reverie.

“Hmm?” Bulma asked distractedly and noticed that Chichi had stopped moving.

“Where’s your head today, I wonder.”

“In the stars.” Bulma replied with a sardonic grin. Chichi sighed heavily. 

“Honestly, I don’t know what redeemable thing you and Goku-saa see in that maniac” She said with a frown. Resentment clear in her tone. Bulma sighed. As much as she would have loved to defend Vegeta, she knew Chichi had a valid reason to hold a grudge against the Saiyan prince. Vegeta was not a ‘good’ person. He had not only come to the planet with the intent to destroy it, he fought and almost killed the woman’s husband and son. He had done atrocious things in his past. He had the blood of billions on his hands... And yet, Bulma didn’t see him that way. In her eyes, he was a slave, a weapon made of flesh and bone in the hands of an intergalactic trigger-happy tyrant.

“Vegeta needed the opportunity to become his own person.” she finally answered Chichi. “Goku knew that. He’s had someone pulling his strings for as long as he can remember, molding and shaping him into the person he has become, but his puppeteer is dead now, and I like the person Vegeta’s become in his absence.”

“You mean the person he’s become in _your_ presence.” Chichi corrected slyly with a raised eyebrow.

“What do you mean?”

“It doesn’t matter, I guess” she dismissed with a wave of her hand. “Maybe you’re right, Bulma. It’s easier to think in black and white than shades of gray. I just wish Goku would be a bit more discriminating. He allows everyone a second chance. Sometimes it works out for the best. Like with Piccolo and your Vegeta. Other times, well, let’s just say that I would have killed Dr. Gero along with his army. Goku’s decision to give him a second chance allowed him time to plot his revenge and now the world is in danger again. You know, sometimes I wonder if he does it on purpose… He always seems happiest when he’s training to defeat some cataclysmic threat.”

The two women were silent for a moment, contemplative while in the distance little explosions littered the sky with shock-waves as Goku, Gohan and Piccolo prepared for the oncoming battle. Bulma stretched her recently acquired ki-senses to try and differentiate the three power-levels. It was like her mind was turning a dial, trying to zoom into indistinguishable blurs in the distance, trying to bring their individual characteristics into focus. Deep in concentration, Bulma almost missed the sudden appearance of an extra ki. The realization that the ki originated from herself shocked her so much that she lost her focus, and her sense of the extra little ki. It didn’t matter, however. She already felt it. The life growing inside her. A child. An heir. 

She was pregnant.

Heat blossomed in her chest, warm and tingling as the first strands of love wrapped itself solidly around her heart, binding itself to the little pocket of vitality in her womb. Then came fear. The sense of being completely out of her depth. She had no idea what to expect. She never expected to be pregnant in the first place. She was supposed to be infertile. She never paid any attention to the mechanics of labor, birthing and caring for babies and the little she did know was absolutely no help. She was a mermaid. The father of her baby was not even from the same planet let alone from the same species as her. What would her gestation period be? What will the genetics of the child be like? Will it be a child of the sea or of the land? Could it be both? It could be an abomination! 

“Bulma? Bulma-san? What’s the matter. Are you okay?” Chichi’s voice slowly penetrated the haze of panic she found herself trapped in. Bulma realized he was staring at the grass beneath her legs and that her lungs were heaving with exertion. “Bulma, what’s wrong?”

“I’m pregnant.” she wheezed out.

“What! Did you just find that out? How did you find out? Is something the matter with the baby?” Chichi’s own rising panic helped Bulma control her own. Her breathing slowed, deepened and she focused on lowering her heart rate in that manner. Chichi’s own nerves were settling and she was currently rubbing soothing circles over Bulma’s back. 

“I felt it.” she said, when she finally managed to calm down.

“It?” asked Chichi,

“The baby’s life-force inside me.” Bulma explained. “I was trying to sense them.” she said, pointing in the general direction of the shock-wave fireworks. She looked at Chichi, who was watching her with evident concern. Bulma suddenly remembered that she should have been expecting this. She had a prophecy to fulfill. One that she hadn’t exactly been trying to circumvent, going by her and Vegeta’s actions during the week before he left. And still, the reality of it… the undeniable evidence. Bulma tried turning her senses inwards again, her hands rested lightly over her belly as she concentrated. And there it was, a little flicker, faint, but definitely there. The world’s salvation, she remembered. A **son** , the first male heir to the Mammalian throne. It seemed incomprehensible. She let her telepathic senses brush lightly over the flicker and felt when it expanded and brushed her back in response. _Oh my Neptune_ , she thought in awe. She suddenly felt fiercely protective over the fragile barely there blip of energy, already conscious enough to respond to her probe. _Don’t you worry baby_ , she whispered softly to it. _I’ll keep you safe, little prince._ She crooned _, So will your father. We’ll make sure that the Androids do not prevail in this time._

The determined set of her shoulders alerted Chichi to the sudden change in the Bulma disposition. She met the blue-haired mermaid deep blue eyes, taken aback by the fierce look that sparked in them. 

One week later Bulma found herself staring at the printout in awe, tracing the tiny bean-shaped form on the image that Doctor Briefs presented to her. Her baby. Her little prince. She would call him Vegeta, she decided, after his father and following the tradition of the Saiyan race. Her face was still wet from her tears. Tears that appeared as soon as the first sound of her baby’s heart rate echoed through the examination room. Even though she could feel him and knew he was there, the rapid pit-a-pat of his tiny heart seems like it broke a dam within her and raw emotion came spilling through. She was more determined than ever to end the threat of the androids, to prevent the future that had befallen the earth in another timeline. Her room was littered with articles, white-papers, anything that she could find on Doctor Gero and his research into artificial intelligence and bionics. She wished to get her hands on the remains of his earlier experiments in android designs just to get an inkling of his methodology. Sadly his previous base of operation is completely destroyed. 

She sighed, and grabbed a few tissues to mop up her tears.

“We’ll need to monitor this pregnancy very closely. It’s difficult to speculate on the genetics of the fetus at this time, but from the looks of it, you’re about seven weeks along.” Dr. Briefs stated.

“How long will I be carrying?” 

“Hard to say. We can upgrade your tank to monitor the baby and record the growth rate during your swim sessions. We’ll use the data to estimate your due date and adjust it as time passes. When you’re further along, I can do a CVS test to check for certain genetic markers. I must warn you however, that this procedure is invasive and carries a small risk of miscarriage. The statistics in human pregnancies are about a 1% probability of miscarriage. I have no idea how your pregnancy would be affected”

“I’d rather not risk it” Bulma said, cradling her womb protectively.

“As you wish.” Dr Brief’s said. “As it scans, the heart rate seems like that of a normal human fetus. Your own heart rate is lower than the average female resting heart rate but not abnormally so, your temperature as well.” His words were accompanied by the slight clicking of his tablet stylus as he entered the data. “Vegeta’s genetics have him running slightly warmer than humans with a higher resting heart rate. You’re temperature seems to have risen to a level of a normal human woman to accommodate the fetus. Your heart rate remains as it was.” Dr. Briefs mustache twitched. “This development brings many interesting observations it seems.” He said, eyes shining with scientific glee.

“Well my dear,” he said, “there’s nothing left to say but congratulations. Oh and do go tell the missus the happy news. She was very concerned when you became sick at the sight of her pastries.”

“Will do doc” she replied, and hopped off the examination table, not as graceful as she would have liked with her feet still in stirrups, but oh well she thought with a shrug. 

Four hours later, Bulma found herself standing in a department store with three shopping carts full of baby equipment, accessories and clothes. She tried telling Mrs Briefs that she needed to get back to her research. The woman just smiled and nodded, saying “Of course you do, dear” and what should have been a trip to procure prenatal vitamins from the chemist ended with her standing here watching as everything from a car seat to breast-pumps were rung up at two till points, while the ditzy blonde babbled on about things like the importance of tissue oil, folic-acid and lactation-boosting diets. 

“Oh honey I’m so excited!” Mrs Briefs squealed. “You know, the doctor and I could never have children.” She said with a sad smile, “ That’s why we were so happy when Goku decided to come live with us, even if only for a short time. I’m glad that big-ol’ house will finally have the pitter-patter of little baby feet running through its halls. Oh!” She said, clutching her cheeks ”I’m going to spoil her -

“Him” Bulma corrected with long suffering

“Or him” Mrs Brief’s conceded, “rotten!”

“Please don’t” Bulma droned, but went ignored.

“Grammy Panchy… ooh, I like the sound of that! What do you think dear, too much? Oh, and what color would you prefer for the nursery? Something light like sea-foam blue or mint, or bold like royal blue or fire-engine red?”

Bulma sighed, and rubbed her temples, already mentally waving her research plans goodbye as she felt exhaustion creeping in.

* * *

‘By Neptune, It’s bright out here!’ Marlin said and gazed upwards, then screamed and dove back underneath.

‘Marlin, you idiot! Haven’t you learned anything?” Ray berated. ‘You’re not supposed to look directly at the sun!’

‘I thought it was the moon that you’re not supposed to look directly at.’ he replied from somewhere beneath the surface. ‘Damn that stung… guys, I think I’m blind!’ he exclaimed, telepathic voice loaded with hysteria. ’Seriously! I only see white. Abby, do something!’

Abby sighed, then dove too.

They were currently bobbing in the waves close to shore, with only their heads and shoulders breaching, having only tasted air for the first time bare moments ago. It was bright out and the sun sat high in the sky.

Razor had led them to a small underwater cave, where they found the remains of an old campsite. Blade said that Bulma seemed to have stayed for a time, but had left very long ago. The closest land was a few tails off: a small island. Ray had been working up the courage to go ashore, not really knowing what to expect.

‘He’s okay.’ Abby’s voice drifted up to him.

‘Thanks Abby’ Marlin said.

‘What’s the plan Barracuda?’ Blade asked at his side, eyes also on the little island.

‘We go ashore.’ Ray answered decisively, and followed his words with action.

Ray lay on his stomach, having just spewed seawater from his throat, and waited, elevated on his elbows, as the process completed. Breathing through his nose and mouth was disconcerting. The heat on his back felt strange and his tail was tingling. Ray watched as the scales melted off his tail and turned into sea-foam in the sand, washed away by the tide. What was left behind was smooth beige skin pulled tight over thick legs that ran into tightly bunched lumps on his backside. The sand was a strange sensation on his new skin, especially between his legs. He rolled over and watched wide eyed what was revealed as the last of his scales fell off.

‘Duuude!’ Marlin called out. ‘Why is it outside?’

‘That _is_ quite disconcerting.’ Blade concurred.

‘Should we cover it?’ Marlin asked.

‘With what?’ Ray answered. ‘Our armor only covers us until the abdomen.’

‘I dunno… ‘ Marlin said, looking around before pointing ‘How bout those big green things? They look a bit like seaweed.’ 

‘Whose bright idea was it anyway, to remove our armor before coming ashore?’ Lapis sassed. 

‘We didn’t know how it would affect the transformation.’ Ray defended heatedly. At that moment Ray looked up to find Lapis peering over his shoulder at his lap with curiosity.

‘Interesting.’ she noted.

‘Do you mind!’ he shouted, attempting to shield himself with his hand. ‘And cover yourself up too!’ he said, averting his eyes as they caught sight of her exposed chest. To which she shrugged nonchalantly and went to gather her armor. He watched her round backside sway for a minute, tilting his head curiously at the hypnotic movement. Something twitched beneath his hand and he started, finding himself suddenly feeling very warm, and very guilty.

‘Is it just me, or does the sight of the naked two-legged female form look very pleasing from behind?’ Marlin asked.

‘Hmm.’ was Blade’s reply. ‘Curious indeed.’

‘Men.’ Abby scoffed, ‘two legs or no, you’re all the same.’ she said and walked off after Lapis, wobbling a bit at first. Ray knew better than to watch this time.

A few hours later, Ray was staring blankly at the two females in their party as they rolled around on the sand in hysterics. The other two males were similarly unimpressed at the mermaids’ antics. 

They had one look at the three mermen, emerging into the clearing with strands of leaves covering their lower half, and promptly collapsed into their current state. The sound that came out of them were alarming at first, until it was established that this was apparently how hilarity was expressed on dry land.

‘I can’t!’ Abby said, a strange wheezing sound emanating from her throat. ‘I just can’t… Oh Neptune, my eyes are leaking.’ she continued, wiping at them.

‘You sure you ain’t dying Abby?’ Marlin asked, arms crossed angrily over his broad chest, ‘’Cause you sure as Kelp sound like it.’

‘I’m just glad us mermaids have longer chainmail. Neptune, you guys look ridiculous. At least take off the armor. Bare-chests have got to look better with stringy leaves than _that_ ’ Abby replied, before promptly dissolving into hysterics again.

Marlin seemed to think about it a bit, then shrugged and started unclipping his breastplate. Ray opted to keep his armor on. He’d rather have some protection, even if it was limited to his upper body.

‘So,’ Lapis prompted, after getting over her hilarity, ‘You think Bull Shark is still on this island?’

‘I don’t know,’ he answered, ‘We have no way of tracking her on land. Outside of physically searching, that is.’ 

‘Sounds tedious.’ Blade commented.

‘I don’t think so.’ Abby said, ‘I might be able to track her psychic energy if she’s still on this island. It’s small enough to fit into my range... Only if she’s not shielding, that is.’

‘Alright Abby!’ Marlin cheered.

‘Why would she shield?’ Ray wondered.

‘You never know.’ Abby answered. Ray sighed, before nodding at Abby to start. She promptly dug her trident into the sand and went to sit on her knees. Ray shuddered at the sight, It seemed unnatural for one’s lower half to be able to bend into double like that.

As he watched, the crystals in her trident and on her circlet in the middle of her forehead began to glow simultaneously and a wave of power washed over him. He stumbled a bit at the sensation and decided to sit down himself until she finished. His team followed suit.

* * *

Taking a day off from physical training, Piccolo had decided to strengthen his mental ability through meditation on an uninhabited island, which also happened to be the same island Vegeta had utilized for his own training not too long ago. The island was well isolated from the rest of society and therefore was well suited to this type of mental exercises. It was therefore surprising to suddenly encompass a massive psychic probe originating from that very island. Piccolo was caught quite unprepared, yet rigorous conditions had him putting up shields almost instantly while at the same time tracking the source of the energy pulse.

The energy signals, five of them in total, felt somewhat familiar. They also felt strong. It didn’t take Piccolo long to figure out where he felt an energy signal like that before. Sending a quick telepathic head’s up to Goku about the new visitors from the deep. Piccolo went to investigate. 

* * *

Abby’s eyes suddenly snapped open just as her energy faded around them.

‘I felt someone.’ she said shakily. Ray was about to demand more answers when a sound cut through their gathering, coming from above them. They all looked towards the sound to find a dark shape hovering before the sun. A shape that vaguely resembles a land dweller, _but that makes no sense_ , Ray thought bewildered. Humans can’t fly. The shape started to descend and more of it’s features gradually become visible. He, at least it seemed like a ‘he’, had the most bizarre shade of skin. It was as green as the leaves they were currently wearing. Not only that, his ears were pointy and there were, what Ray could only describe as two ‘anglers’ on the sides of his forehead. His head was otherwise covered with a white cloth and he wore a similarly white cape. While ray was still getting over his shock, the person opened its mouth, revealing long pointy canines along with otherwise merman looking white teeth and emitted some complicated sound. 

Like sticking your fist through a jellyfish and having it pop back out the other side, the sound suddenly translated itself into words in Ray’s mind.

“State your business, merman.” was what Ray heard. Ray suddenly noticed that the ‘man’ was speaking directly to him and realized that his spear was up, pointed in the strangers direction and that his team had naturally fallen into formation behind him.

Ray realised he needed to get a hold of himself, and fast or things could get ugly. Thinking to reassure the stranger, Ray unconsciously spoke in the way of their people, only remembering that humans weren’t telepathic right as the words left him:

‘We mean no harm,’ he started, stopped and was then quite surprised when they received a reply in the same manner.

‘Then why are you here?’

This man obviously was not a regular human being. He also seemed to know far more about his kind than Ray thought safe. That and his tone seemed threatening. Ray tightened his grip on his trident and noticed the green man’s eye catch the movement. _Observant_ , Ray noted. Taking a deep, disconcerting mouth breath, Ray decided that introductions could go a long way to dissuade the situation. Trusting his squad to have his back, Ray lowered trident and saluted the green man with a slight bow of the head.

‘Sir, my name is Lieutenant Ray Naga of the Mammalian Queendom. My companions and I have traveled very far, seeking our missing princess. She is heir to the throne and has disappeared from our home many moons ago. Our journey has brought us to this location, where our tracker indicated that she was last scented.’

The green man observed them for a moment before a frown creased his brow, causing the anglers to lower as well.

‘I thought your kind were forbidden from leaving the ocean.’ he remarked. 

‘We are, but we’ve been given leave to track down the Princess.’

‘And what will happen to her if you find her, I wonder.’ Now it was Ray’s turn to frown. It almost seemed like this green man knew exactly who they were talking about. It’s quite possible, Ray thought, that Greenman has already met Bulma. On the tail of that thought, it seemed the rest of his team must have been having the same idea because Abby suddenly spoke.

‘Look Sir, if you know where she is… we just want to talk to her.’ The man seemed to think it over before a wall suddenly slammed down onto their communication path. Green man stared at the ground, brows scrunched in concentration, it felt like forever but was likely mere moments when he faced them again.

‘My comrade will talk to her, and bring her here if she so wishes. Wait here if you like.’ 

And with that, the green man crossed his legs and sat… in the air, closed his eyes and proceded to ignore them. 

Ray wondered if he had the same comical look on his face that the rest of his squad was now sporting.


	19. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma is finally reunited with her friends from the ocean.

To say that the sudden appearance of a brightly dressed male scared the scales off them would be an understatement. His squad had not been waiting long. The sun had barely moved a tail-length toward the sea before they were suddenly sitting before a two-legged man that winked into existence before their eyes. His hair was the most bizarre thing Ray had witnessed, sticking up all over the place. Not seeming to be weighed down by the force that seemed to affect everything on dry land. Ray had barely gotten over the shock when he noted a small hand clasped around the tall man's arm and a very familiar set of blue eyes suddenly peeking at him from behind that, admittedly massive, arm. An acute jealousy mixed with intense relief and Ray momentarily lost control of himself. He launched himself at the pair. His instinctive reaction was to shove the interloping male out of his way and make a grab at his General, whether to shake her for causing them so much worry, or to hug the salt out of her, he hadn't yet decided. He didn't even get to achieve his first rash objective because pushing the male out of his way seemed to be more difficult than he had anticipated and he instead pushed himself away and found himself with his newly acquired knees in the sand. Neptune, that felt like pushing up against a solid wall of rock. He thought in a daze. Bulma's eyes were wide as she stared down at him.

'What exactly was your plan, Barracuda?' her achingly familiar voice drifted into his mind. Her eyes were full of mirth.

'Bulma' was all he could say in return.

'Hi Ray' she said, smiling at him. Then she turned toward the rest of the team, stepping out from behind her escort.

'I can't believe you guys are really here.' she told them all. Her joy was evident for everyone to see and feel. Abby was the first to respond, standing from her position in the sand.

'We missed you, Girl' she said. 'And what do you mean you can't believe it? You don't think we would have let you swim off and have all the fun, do you?'

'Yeah, Bull Shark' Marlin piped up, 'Especially given that I helped cook up this crazy escape plan in the first place. Never knew you were insane enough to try it though. Didn't even think you'd remember it given how drunk we were that night, then again, you were always the most daring of us.'

'That's because she's a Royal.' Lapis finally spoke, her tone notably cooler than the other two. 'She wouldn't have gotten the same rap as us regular folk would have when breaking the rules.' He saw Bulma purse her lips in apprehension and he wanted to yell at Lapis for her disrespect. Blade remained silent, simply acknowledging Bulma with a head nod. She returned the gesture.

'Not that I'm not glad you guys are here, but what are you guys doing here? I mean, it's forbidden and I wasn't planning on returning. I can't imagine that any of you would willingly leave everything behind like this.'

'Like you did?' Ray heard himself speak, not missing the bitterness in his own town. He cursed himself for losing control again. Then again, Bulma had always had this effect on him. Bulma sighed, catching the censure as well.

'I had my reasons.' she finally answered.

'You didn't want to be queen.' Lapis guessed.

'I didn't want to be a puppet queen' Bulma corrected stiffly. She was becoming upset, he noted.

'I don't think you would have had to.' Lapis continued. 'You are stronger than them. Our people loved you. You had the opportunity and the power to change tradition and you wasted it.' Lapis' voice was still cool, but lacked anger.

'Not necessarily.' Abby interjected. 'You're forgetting that there are higher powers at work here. Bulma is exactly where she needs to be.' She reminded.

'You know about the prophecy then?' Bulma asked, looking at him. He nodded solemnly, then glanced at the tall brightly dressed man standing off to the side. He looked at Bulma in askance and she seemed to know what he was thinking.

'Oh Neptune, No!' She was quick to assure him. Chuckling a bit. The sound emerging from her throat was strange, but not unpleasant. He had never heard her laughter out loud before. Ray found that he liked the sound. Bulma then waved the man over until he was standing beside her.

'This is Goku' she introduced, 'A great warrior and protector of this planet, even though he was not born on earth.'

It was the second time that Ray was shocked stupid in so many minutes.

'Not born on earth?' Marlin blurted what they were all thinking. Bulma laughed again,

'No. He is what is referred to as a Saiyan. They are very similar to Earthlings from what I've seen and even compatible enough to breed with them, but they originate from another planet out in the stars.' she finished, pointing upwards. They followed her fingers, but of course couldn't see anything.

'That's incredible.' Abby finally spoke. 'How many Saiyans are currently on the planet? Are there many of them? How did they get here and how are they different from humans? And why is that one green?' Abby's scholarly mind seemed to have run away with her.

'There's only one Saiyan currently on earth.' Bulma answered, and Ray noticed something flash her eyes. It was gone before he could figure out what. The man next to her, Goku, suddenly spoke.

'I might be the only one left on the planet, but there's another Saiyan out there in space. His name is Vegeta. He's the Prince and as far we know we're the only remaining members of our race. That is, if you don't count the half-Saiyans.'

'Wait.' Ray said, 'you can communicate with us?'

'What happened to the others' Marlin asked.

'Half-Saiyans?' was Abby's take away.

'Erm… there's obviously a lot to talk about.' Bulma said, a bit nervously for some reason. 'Why don't we head back to where I'm currently residing and I'll try to fill you in.'

They were all silent for a beat as they absorbed some of the information. Ray suddenly noted that Bulma was wearing human clothes, which consisted of a white strappy form-fitting top with a pale sand-colored bottom. It had holes for her legs and only covered about half her thighs. Her feet, unlike the other land dwellers, were bare, and the nails on her toes were not the same color as theirs - a pink, almost translucent color, but rather they seemed to match her eyes: a glittery, almost metallic blue. He stared at them, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. It was probably some form of human toe adornment. She seemed very integrated into their world, Ray noted. A bit alarmed, but he guessed he shouldn't be surprised.

'Ok' Ray finally relented. Bulma sighed, looking relieved.

'I'll need all of you to take a hold of Goku. Don't let go, okay?' she instructed, grabbing the wild-haired Saiyan's arm.

'Is this another Saiyan-thing?' Abby asked, the first to comply and grabbed the other arm. He watched her eyes widen as she let out an involuntary 'Oh my' of appreciation as her fingers flexed onto the arm.

'It's a Goku thing' Bulma answered Abby, chuckling her musical laugh again. Abby's cheeks were turning pink at her own forwardness. Ray's stomach clenched, suddenly feeling queasy.

Ray made himself go up to touch the tall warrior's shoulder and the rest of his squad followed suit. In an instant, their surroundings disappeared.

* * *

Bulma blinked. Bringing the familiar image of the Capsule Corp compound into focus. Around her, her friends were in various levels of discomfort, she observed as she turned to check on them. Ray was doubled over, clutching his stomach. Abby abruptly sat down, Lapis was clutching her head and Blade seemed to be swaying. Marlin started retching. Bulma shook her head in pity, remembering her own first Instant Transmission experience.

She turned to Goku. "Thanks for your help, buddy."

"No problem Bulma," he answered. "Call if you need anything else."

Then he was gone again.

Bulma observed her mer friends, noting the differences in their coloring were quite pronounced on dry land. Lapis pitch black hair actually had accents of indigo when seen in sunlight, she noticed, and her opel-white eyes that always unnerved Bulma in the past, are less frightening without the luminous backlights and had dimmed to cool silver. She was much more petite than the rest of the crew with a face that Bulma could now confidently describe as elvin: high cheekbones and pointy uptilted nose. Abby's hair was the color of moss and her eyes, once a bright neon green were now simply a subtle sage. They were really beautiful, Bulma noted. With little flecks of silver concentrated around her pupil to have an almost ombré effect to them. Abby was also skinny, but in a lanky manner, her limbs long and willowy. Both the mermaids' skin tone matched that of Bulma when she first arrived on land: porcelain white and almost translucent. Bulma's skin tone had however, over time changed into a nice rosy beige from all the sun she'd been getting. Ray skin had always been darker than hers, but Bulma really couldn't appreciate the nuances of color until this moment. It was a warm mocha-brown, a shade or two darker than Vegeta's Bulma thought. Like coffee with a dash of cream. His hair color, Bulma would compare to dark chocolate - deep and just as wavy. His eyes however were bright gold, which stood out remarkably in his darker skin. The other two males were lighter hued, with Marlin's skin tone almost exactly matching mermaids'. His shock of red hair however was a sight to behold. It wasn't ginger, like she'd noticed in some of her human colleagues, but also not wine-colored - another human shade she'd noted, but rather a bright scarlet with undertones of pink. His eyes by contrast were as green as the grass they were standing on. His coloring matched his personality to a tee Bulma thought and couldn't help but snigger. Marlin stood out from the males in the group not only because of his odd coloring but his massive brawn as well. However, Bulma couldn't really say that he was impressive anymore, especially compared to some of the earth warriors she had encountered. In contrast with Marlin's brightness, Blade had pitch black hair on the top while on the side of his head it abruptly changed into a brassy brown. He played it up by keeping the top hair longer than the sides, that was clipped very close to his skull. He was slightly more tan than the light-skinned mers, almost caramel-colored. Both Ray and Blade, while smaller than Marlin, were still well defined and muscular, with Ray being a bit taller and more broad-shouldered than the tracker.

'What the kelp was that!' Ray exclaimed as he finally regained his bearings.

'Goku's special.' was Bulma's simple answer. Referring to their unusual mode of transportation.

'Special? He's a freak.'

'Hey now,' she admonished. 'Don't be mean.'

Her long time friend straightened, and observed his surroundings. Taking in the large yellow domed structure before him. 'So this is you?' he asked.

'Yes.'

'Damn, Bulma. Only you would run away from a palace and end up at even better diggs' Marlin remarked. Bulma smirked at him.

'Before we go in, there's something you guys need to know: The people who live here are a bit eccentric.' she warned. 'The owner of this compound is a world-class scientist and inventor who would poke and prod at you as soon as he lays eyes on you. I've been volunteering as his science experiment during my time here.'

'That's horrible!' Abby exclaimed.

'It's not bad. He's never harmed me and he's been nothing but kind to me. He's really a sweet old man. He's just very curious.'

'Old?' Ray blurted.

'Yes,' Bulma answered, 'old.' she watched him visibly relax and shook her head in confusion.

'So then, you've been… happy?' Blade spoke for the first time since she saw him on the island. He always was a merman of few words.

'Yes Blade. I have, actually.' she answered him.

'The land dwellers… they speak differently from us. With their mouths.' Lapis spoke.

'Yes,' Bulma answered cautiously. She had a feeling that Lapis was more than a little pissed at her.

'I could understand it.' Lapis continued. 'When the green man spoke to us when we first came ashore. It was a bit strange but it felt as if something popped in my head and the sounds suddenly made sense.' she phrased it as a statement but her tone was questioning, so Bulma addressed her as if it were a question.

'The language spoken on land is similar to what we speak telepathically. The only difference is the medium of communication. You'll be able to pick up on spoken communication quickly. Your brain will automatically make the translation. Unfortunately it takes a bit longer for your mouth to catch up. Assuming you'd be here long enough to learn.' Bulma ended and was once again reminded of her earlier query as to why exactly they had come. She repeated the question, and everyone at once seemed to look at Ray, so she did too.

'We were sent by the Council, Bulma.' Ray finally admitted.

'To retrieve me?'

'Yes.'

'Well, that's all good and well guys but unfortunately I have no intention of going back.'

'Why?' Lapis asked, frustration clear in her tone. Bulma sighed.

'There's a lot going on right now. It's a long story that I'll tell you all later. For now you will have to accept that I can't return to the ocean.'

'Later then.' Ray agreed, 'For now I'm just happy that you're safe.' he said, and reached out to put a warm hand on her shoulder. Something sparked in his eyes when they met hers and her heart gave a single thump of panic. She broke their stare. He was her closest friend, and he was just relieved to see her safe, she told herself, and made herself believe it.

Bulma's first stop was the labs with her friends trailing behind her. It was only as Bulma noted the odd looks on the staff members faces, especially that of the females, that she seemed to realize what her male compatriots were wearing. For the life of her, Bulma didn't know why she only noticed it now, but couldn't help the giggle that rose from her belly. Once she started, she couldn't stop, and to make matters worse, Lapis and Abby also joined in her hilarity. The mermen were not very amused, Bulma noticed as she watched their frowns deepen. Which of course caused them to laugh harder.

'Come on! Not this again!' Marlin exclaimed, exasperated.

'I'm sorry.' she apologized between giggles, 'It's just that… leaves!' this sparked another round of laughter. When she finally managed to calm down and wipe her eyes she noted that they had drawn the attention of every pair of eyes in the vicinity, among them, Dr Briefs. She straightened, feeling acutely embarrassed.

"Oh, Dr Briefs! I was actually on my way to see you."

"Hi Bulma, I'm guessing you were coming to introduce your interesting friends?" he asked, eyes brimming with curiosity.

"Yes actually. These," she gestured to the mers behind her, "Are some of my people. They've come searching for me. They uh.. cannot fully communicate properly so I was hoping they can stay here for the time being."

"Excellent!" Dr Briefs exclaimed, much to Bulma's surprise. "Then they would be perfect to test this out," he said, walking up to Ray who was standing right next to Bulma. In his hand he had some sort of device that looked like a mesh of metal rods and disk. It was concave and looked to be able to fit over one's head. "I think I really have it now. Why, just last night I figured out what the missing piece was. I was actually going to test it on you, but now that your friends are here… I'd say that's serendipity." he spoke reaching up to Ray's head. Ray flinched away and Dr Briefs hesitated. "Oh, I apologize my boy. I'm a bit excited, as you might tell. May I?" he asked politely. Ray looked at the doctor, then to Bulma.

'Is it safe?' he asked her. Bulma shrugged.

'Probably, if he's confident enough to put it on his own head.' Bulma answered, because perched on the doctor's mop of gray hair was a replica of the device he was now attempting to place on her lieutenant's head.

Ray was a lot braver than she was because he consented with a nod and the thing was plopped on his head.

'What is this thing anyway?' Ray asked and Bulma watched, fascinated as some lights flashed on the device and Dr Briefs gave a delighted chuckle.

"This thing, my boy" Dr. Briefs answered Ray to Bulma's surprise, "Is a neural communications converter… or something like that. I haven't really come up with a proper name for it." he mused, trailing off.

'So, you can understand me when I'm speaking in the way of my people?' Ray continued, looking quite interested. More blinking lights, on both devices it seemed and doctor Briefs answered:

"Yes"

'Fascinating' Abby whispered. Bulma couldn't help but agree. The man really was a genius.

"Will it work underwater?" Bulma found herself asking out loud, already seeing the benefits this device can bring to her people.

"Not yet," the doctor answered. "It's just a prototype, but that's a quick fix. The main thing is that it works!"

With that, Dr Briefs was dashing off again, making sure to grab the device from Ray's head. Before he completely left the room, Dr Briefs spun around and said,

"Oh, Bulma dear, your friends are welcome to stay as long as they like." Then he was gone.

Bulma led them around the curved hallways to her living quarters. The door was open and Bulma frowned in consternation. A high pitched whine suddenly sounded from within.  _ What in Neptune's Blue Sea, _ she wondered as she entered. She followed the noise to her bedroom. Her mer friends trailing behind. The first thing she noticed upon entering was the giant hole in the wall. Through the hole she saw someone crouched on the ground with a pistol shaped object in his hand: the source of the sound. The man was in a white t-shirt and dark blue chinos splattered with white and had a utility belt clipped around his waist. She watched as he attached a beam of white painted wood onto another with that pistol, which Bulma finally recognized as an electric screwdriver.

Taking in the rest of the room, Bulma noted that Mrs. Brief was standing in the far corner and was packing some things into the cupboard, Bulma recognized it as the baby-gear that they went shopping for. It all finally clicked. Mrs. Brief was making a baby room. Gosh, but that woman is extra, Bulma thought with mild exasperation. She looked at her friends behind her, who were also taking in the details with evident confusion and sighed. She would have liked to wait a bit before informing them about her pregnancy. Looks like 'a bit' came sooner than expected.

She cleared her throat. Both the handyman in the middle of the room and Mrs Briefs paused and turned to look at her. Mrs Briefs eyes widened upon seeing her, making her catch a rare glimpse of the woman's baby blue eyes.

"Oh, Bulma dear. I thought you would be gone for a while still. You usually are when leaving with that sweet boy Goku… I wanted to surprise you." she said, a bit sheepishly and Bulma watched, fascinated as a rosy tint stained Panchy's cheeks. Bulma sighed, a reluctant smile on her face. Mrs. Briefs then seemed to notice her companions.

"Oh my!" Mrs Briefs exclaimed in a breathy voice, noticing her mermen friends' state of dress… or rather undress. "Who are your friends, dear?" she asked then placed the stack of baby clothes on the counter beside her. She walked over towards them. Bulma rolled her eyes and backed out of the opening to let her through and the handyman took it as his queue to continue.

"These are some of my friends from my home" Bulma introduced, and named them all.

"Oh it's wonderful to meet more of Bulma's friends. I'm Panchy Briefs." she stated and waited.

"Like me, they do not know the language here yet Mrs. Briefs. They will learn soon enough though."

"How delightful" the blonde said. "Well I'm sure you would like to catch up. Sorry about the mess and the noise dear. I'm sure if you sit out on the patio it wouldn't be such a bother. Enrique shouldn't be long still. The only thing he has left to do is assemble the crib."

"It's not a problem Mrs Briefs." Bulma answered, "Thank you for all the effort you're going through. I really appreciate it."

"Oh posh" the lady said with a nonchalant flick of her wrist. "I haven't had this much fun in years, and my eyes are getting quite a feast in the process," she said with a conspiratorial wink that Bulma barely noticed. "Why, with Mr Vegeta gone there's been a woeful shortage of eye-candy." she complained. 

Bulma couldn't help laughing. The woman was such a flirt. Bulma found herself taking another glimpse at 'Enrique' and had to agree with Mrs Briefs, he was quite handsome. The T-shirt did absolutely nothing to hide his muscular definition, even if he was a bit on the lean side (compared to what she was used to). With inky black hair just this side of too long and two-day old scruff on his well defined jaw he looked like he jumped right off the covers of some of Mrs Briefs' steamy romances… or out of one of her telenovelas. Bulma just shook her head at the naughty lady. She swore she was worse than Master Roshi some days.

"Well then," Panchy continued, "y'all just go make yourself comfortable. I'll bring up refreshments." Then she tottered off in her chunky heels, round buttocks swaying sensually in her high-waisted denim capris.

'What was that all about?' Marlin finally spoke when the lady had fully disappeared.

'I told you,' Bulma answered, 'they're a bit eccentric.'

'What was she doing in there? And who's the guy in the middle of the floor?' Abby asked.

'He's doing some manual labour. Mrs. Briefs seemed to be renovating.'

'More like extending,' Ray said, 'Or haven't you noticed the giant hole in the wall of what I assume to be your quarters.'

'I've noticed.' Bulma answered reservedly.

'Ok, what are you not telling us? Seriously, you've been clammed up tight since we met up on the beach and it's really starting to irritate me.'

'A lot has happened.' she said as she watched all their expectant faces.

'Of that I have no doubt.' Ray answered.

'Uhm… let me get you guys something to wear first. You can even take a shower. I know from experience that sea-sand on dry skin is not all that comfortable. And my shower has been modified so I can shower in salt water. We cannot go without it for too long, especially in the beginning. Our bodies shut down.'

'You're stalling.'

'Maybe.' Bulma admitted, 'I'm still right. You guys aren't going anywhere anytime soon, right'

'I can use a rinse.' Abby said. 'I've got sand in some really uncomfortable places.'

'I hear you.' Marlin agreed.

She led them to the washrooms and showed them how to operate the taps and the scrubs and body washes. She also laid out towels. 'There are sea-salt minerals in all my skin care products.' she told them, 'It keeps my skin vibrant and healthy.' she explained. Estimating their sizes with some quick observation, Bulma went down to the department store on the first floor while they each finished their business, letting Mrs Briefs know about her quick errand on the way out. She made a mental note to order more of her body products online.

Since she just had a rough estimate of their sizes, Bulma thought that sweats would be the safest option and bought each of her friends two pairs of capsule corp branded sweat pants and t-shirts. She bought racerback sports bras for the mermaids and some underwear. She left the shoes. They would have to be measured later for shoes, bra sizes and everything else later. She swiped her capsule corp credit card at the checkout and was back in her rooms in less than an hour after she left them. When she returned, Blade, Abby and Lapis were all sitting around the patio tables wrapped in towels. Marlin was nowhere to be seen but she heard the shower running and Ray was still in his leaf-skirt. She snorted, attracting all of their eyes. She laid her packages down on the dining room table and went outside. She noted then that they were all crowded around a scrumptious sushi platter and mentally thanked Mrs Briefs for her thoughtfulness. The woman is far more insightful and clever than a lot of people gave her credit for. Grabbing a piece of prawn nigiri, she dipped it in the untouched bowl of soy and popped it in her mouth.

'So that's what those are for.' Lapis murmured.

'I brought you guys some stuff.' she said. Watching her friends follow her example with the next pieces of sushi they snagged.

'Oh my Neptune that's sooo much better.' Abby moaned. The others also nodded their agreement.

When everyone was seated, dressed and sated Ray decided that he had waited long enough.

'Alright Bull Shark, out with it.' he demanded.

She sighed and started her tale from when she discovered that her chest scales were falling off.

Up until her encountering Vegeta, it was actually not that hard of a story to tell, her friends seemed in awe of all the adventurous things that had befallen her: being captured by Eelian, attacked by a shark and meeting a giant sea dragon being some of the events that demanded an in-detail recounting. As she started telling them about her meeting Vegeta however she noted a significant dulling of the excitement in her companions eyes. Ray was outright frowning as she described her initial encounters and impressions of the Saiyan Prince. She left a lot out, for obvious reasons, but found herself pausing as she came to the bit about the androids.

'Woah whoa woah' Marlin interrupted her in the middle of her telling them about the threat in the future. 'You're telling me that someone managed to actually build a device that lets a person travel back in time and interact with folks like it's just another day of the week and then just fly off again?'

'That's what happened, yes.'

'And another person had managed to build artificial humans that are strong enough to kill billions of people on the planet with complete ease?'

'Yep'

'How the kelp had these land dwellers become so dangerous? You would swear we'd been living under a rock!' he shouted.

'Technically we have,' Blade stated.

'It's…' Lapis started, 'Very difficult to believe, but I know for a fact you're not lying.'

'It's not to say that this person who told her this outrageous tale wasn't lying. I mean, what would she really know about this 'Vegeta' character after just a few moons.' Ray said, 'He could have been lying to-'

'To what?' Bulma asked, a bit irritated by his tone.

'You know, keep you from going anywhere. I mean, these androids are the reason that you don't want to leave, aren't they?'

'First of all,' Bulma hissed, not bothering to hide her irritation, 'I'm not some guppy who believes any kelp I'm shoveled just because the person shoveling it is good-looking.'

'Who said anything about good-look-

'Secondly,' Bulma interrupted Ray's defense, 'Even if I didn't believe him, which wasn't the case because he had no reason for lying to me about something this grave, despite what you may think, I anyway wouldn't have just left. I would have waited until I could determine the truth for myself and let me tell you something lieutenant,' Bulma said annunciating the last word harshly, 'I've met some extremely powerful people during my stay on land and they're all training their asses off to be ready in less than two years time. Also, I'm not naive enough to think that the land-dwellers fight won't affect our world in some way. So I'm going to do everything that I can to ensure the future of the time-traveller doesn't come to pass.'

After a heavy silence, Blade was the first one to speak. 'They are the Metal Ones that were prophesied to ruin the earth. You are the Vessel.'

'Yes. It would appear so.'

'The events that are currently occurring, they have been foretold by three different peoples.' Lapis stated. 'We've already established, back at The Reef, that it's all too coincidental for it not to be true.' Bulma nodded.

'Which means that you will be our Queen, regardless if you want it or not. And you will give birth to a male heir: our future King. A child of the land and the sea. At least, that's what we interpreted. The point that I'm trying to make, Bulma, is that even though it seems that you are needed here and are for all intents and purposes right where you're supposed to be, you still have major responsibilities back home.'

Bulma sighed heavily. She didn't really want to think about that part.

'You do not have the luxury to just up and quit.' she reiterated.

'I know that!' Bulma defended heatedly.

'Good.' Lapis settled, 'As long as you understand that.'

'Watch it, soldier, I'm still your superior.' Bulma warned, frustrated beyond measure. She suddenly had the urge to punch that serene look off the Truth-seer's face.

'My apologies, General' Lapis answered, silver eyes downcast. Bulma sighed, trying to reign in her ire. The kid inside her was already wreaking havoc on her hormones.

'Look, what you guys are saying is not something that I haven't considered myself. I just can't focus on that now. The Queendom won't fall into ruin because of my continued absence. The war is over and Mother is still queen.'

'You know it won't be the same… when you take the throne. Don't you? You won't be like the other Queens.' This came from Abby.

'You will have a lot more influence and power. You have the people behind you. You will also have the physical strength and if the prophecy is to be believed: a male heir.' Ray added.

'You think those old geezers will simply hand the power back over?' Bulma asked, smiling wryly.

'And when have you ever been one to back out of a fight, Bull Shark?' Ray taunted.

'I'm not backing out.' Bulma defended. 'I just have bigger fish to fry.' Bulma stated, noting their confused expressions she added, 'It's a land expression meaning that I have bigger problems to worry about right now.'

'But you will come back home after this whole thing with the androids is settled, won't you?' Marlin asked.

'I… I don't know.' Bulma said, thinking about Vegeta.

'But…' Marlin started,

'Look. My son is the only certainty that I can think to care about right now. Whatever else the future may bring, I can do nothing right now but prepare as best I can and fight like hell when the time comes.'

'Your son?' Ray asked, a bewildered expression on his face.

'Yes.' Bulma answered and lay her hand on her stomach. 'My son.'


	20. Change of Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma finally has the much needed discussion about her future with the other merpeople.  
> Vegeta hits a wall in his training and realizes that he's missing something.

Bulma slept restlessly. Her dreams were plagued by nameless faceless figures chasing her down. _ They wanted her, they wanted it - the precious bundle of warmth she held tightly to her chest. She was swimming as fast as she could, trying to find an inkling of light burning through from above. There was nothing. The only light in the cave was coming from her. The bundle whimpered and she sped up, her eyes resolutely fixed on what lay ahead. She wasn’t going to make it, she realized, dread churning in her belly. She could feel them closing in on her. So she glanced back and saw a mob of red eyes burning through the darkness and slithering right at her. She turned back around and was confronted by a gaping maw of serrated, triangular teeth.  _

Bulma sat up with a start, her heart beating rapidly and her breaths coming in pants. Her hand went to her womb, feeling the life force in there flutter like the wings of a butterfly. She tried to calm herself; slowed her breathing, endlessly repeating the same mantra to herself: Just a dream. After a while, she could feel him settle and she rubbed her belly soothingly, willing calming thoughts to her little one in there. He was so tiny and yet already, there was a strong bond linking them together, heart and mind. She glanced towards the window. The floor to ceiling balcony windows were shut, keeping out the brisk autumn air. The curtains, however, were open, presenting a beautiful view of the outside world shrouded in the palette of dawn. Pale streaks of grey were bleeding into the dusky night sky outlining the dark silhouette of buildings that formed the unique pattern of the West City skyline. Bulma was still rubbing soothing circles on her now noticeable bump and considered the merits of getting up. On the one hand, it was still way too early and her body was yearning for a few more hours of sleep. On the other hand her bladder and her stomach were starting to make their needs known. Bulma’s appetite had increased drastically during the past few months and knew from experience that if she didn’t feed this kid, he would start kicking. And his kicks hurt like a bitch. Plus she had already experienced the joys of a pregnancy related UTI once a few weeks past and did not care to repeat the experience. Bulma sighed, resolving to catch a few more hours of sleep later in the afternoon and scooted out of bed. 

She was clipping the monitoring belt around her distended stomach when Abby walked into the lab. She was wearing a bikini top and a sarong tied around her waist.

“Hey Abby” she greeted, opting for verbal communication. Her friends needed the practice.

“You’re up early” Abelone greeted back. She paused before Bulma noting the device now snugly secured around Bulma’s belly. Her eyes lit with curiosity. “You’re looking at the baby today?” she asked excitedly. “May I see?”

“Sure.” she shrugged, and walked toward the entrance of the tank. Abby followed. The tank entrance had an airtight chamber similar to an airlock in a spacecraft. The door into the tank would only open once the chamber was completely filled with water. Once the outside door sealed behind them, the water started pumping into the chamber from below. When the water reached waist level Bulma removed her bottoms, leaving only her in only her swim top and the monitoring band around her waist. Abby didn’t wear any bottoms besides her sarong, which wasn’t a hindrance with a tail so she left them on as the water slowly rose. When the water was deep enough the mermaids dove and transformed, then waited for the chamber to fill completely before the door to the tank opened.

Bulma at once swam to the center console and switched on the monitor there. After making sure her belt was active, Bulma navigated to the program that brought up her baby’s stats. The sound of his heartbeat immediately sounded through the tank and Bulma’s own heart fluttered at the now familiar and cherished sound. Abby floated next to her, her eyes slightly luminous in the still mostly dark lab. Bulma pulled up visuals, the belt generating an almost 270 degree view of her little one on the monitor. He was cast in tones of sepia, but his features were easily recognizable, from the disproportionately large head to the stubby little fingers and toes at the end of rail-thin limbs. He was beautiful to Bulma, despite being shaped like what the majority of ignorant humans still considered as the quintessential alien. Abby’s arm reached into her view, her webbed fingers tracing the shape of his legs over the screen.

‘He does not have a tail’ she said, tone low and carrying a hint of concern.

‘If you mean a mertail, then no. He does not. Neither does he have a saiyan tail, which I was warned could also manifest in the fetus. He seems like a normal human baby, but we can’t really find out more about his genetics until he’s born.’

‘Do you think he will be able to survive as a mer?’

‘I don’t know Abelone.’ Bulma said, sighing heavily. There were so many unknowns about her pregnancy and her baby. ‘We’re all still learning as time goes by.’ Bulma found she did not care much about the genetics and how it will affect the future. Her most pressing concern was the health of her son. Her eyes drifted to the other statistics, predominantly among them being the large percentage value stating the gestation stage at 58%. She had been pregnant now for just over 18 weeks and her baby seemed to be developing at an accelerated rate. At this rate her baby would be arriving in just over three months at 31 weeks. She wished, not for the first time, that Vegeta was present to offer some more information on his race. The only other Saiyan hybrid that she knew of was Gohan, but Chichi had already confirmed that he was carried almost to term, arriving at 38 weeks.

‘Well, thank Neptune then that you won’t be having the baby at home.’ Abby said.

‘Thank Neptune indeed. As if I want everyone and their mother witnessing the birth of my child’

Abby laughed, ‘You’re overreacting, you know only family is allowed in the Royal birthing chambers.’

‘Which consist of all my breeding sisters, the midwife and my mother. Ergo everyone and their mother. No thanks. I’m quite satisfied with the facilities they have set up here.’

‘Do you think he’ll be back before then?’

Bulma didn’t need to ask who Abby was referring to. Since her friends have surfaced Bulma had fallen into the familiar role of treating Abby as her mentor, and regularly confided in the older mermaid about her feelings and experiences. Abby’s presence assuaged the loneliness she felt in Vegeta’s absence. She missed him desperately, even objectively knowing that he was out there training to become strong enough for their sake. Subjectively however, it was small comfort. Especially during those nights when she woke up with a body aching for release and only found cold empty sheets as her companion. Apparently, pregnant females became sexually insatiable during their second trimester. Bulma still cringed in mortification when she recalled the moment that little tidbit was shared with her.

They were all sitting down for breakfast, her merfriends included. Bulma remembered being particularly prickly that morning given the state she woke up in, only for Mrs Briefs to notice her attitude and suggest self-satisfaction in the absence of Vegeta being there to ‘take the edge off’ her heightened libido. To make matters worse, Abby immediately began questioning Mrs Briefs about the ‘fascinating’ tools and gadgets available for such purposes. Questions that Mrs Briefs was only too happy to answer, giving very detailed descriptions, much to Bulma’s embarrassment. Even though she tried not to, she felt at times very resentful towards the Saiyan for making her wade through all of these changes alone, especially after experiencing the shortcomings - in the most literal sense - of sextoys, compared to a skilled lover.

It felt as if she were in a state of stasis, just waiting for things to happen: Waiting for the Androids; waiting for Vegeta to return; waiting for her son to be born. In the meantime, she felt utterly useless. Her research into defeating the androids had all but come to a standstill since she could still not dig up any of Gero’s work. She managed to find a clue as to the possible location of his secret laboratory, but the area was so vast it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. Her training had also been put on hold because of the obstruction that her stomach had become, although Chichi still took pity on her once every few weeks and came over for some T’ai Chi. Her friends had also started attending these sessions on the grass of Capsule Corp. They found that it helped with their biped motor-skills. That, and Yoga, which herself, Abby and Lapis had taken to attending three times a week in the Capsule Corp gymnasium. The instructor, Alexa, was very considerate toward Bulma’s ‘delicate’ state and often gave her alternate poses to the rest of the class, which was apparently beneficial to her pregnancy.

‘I don’t think he’ll return before his son is born Abby.’ Bulma said with a sigh, answering her earlier query. ‘His ship was stocked for a full year’s travel.’

‘That’s really a shame, Princess. If he’s not present to support you through this, he should at least be there to witness the birth of his child.’

‘He doesn’t know, Abby.’ she defended.

‘Well he should if what you told me about the two of you is true. The possibility should have at least crossed his mind.’

‘Oh please, I never expected to have a doting male by my side. I chose a warrior to be my mate, and warriors as far as I know do not dote and coddle and fuss.’

‘Shows how much you know.’ Abby sassed.

‘Besides,’ Bulma continued, ‘It’s not like I would have had a doting male back in the ocean either. Bearing a royal heir is a lonely job.’

‘Pssh, you wouldn’t have had a mate at all if you were bearing a royal heir.. Just DNA donors.’

‘Exactly.’ Bulma agreed and couldn’t help but shudder at the thought, ‘Even if the situation is not ideal, I’m still better off here than I would have been at home.’

They were silent for a few moments as Bulma closed down the program displaying her baby’s growth, making sure to save the latest readings. She then unclipped the monitoring belt and placed it on the console before starting her rounds in the tank. 

‘So,’ Abby started again, swimming at her side. ‘How’s Mrs Brief’s gift been working out for you? Is it taking the edge off?’ she asked with a cheeky wink.

‘Abby!’ Bulma scolded, feeling her face start to glow with embarrassment.

‘What? Come on girl, you’re no longer innocent.’

‘I’m so not talking about that with you!’

‘Huh… and here I thought your prudish behavior was simply attributed to your inexperience.’

‘I’m not a prude. You just have no shame.’

‘It’s nothing to be ashamed of Bulma, I heard self-pleasurement is a widely practiced act for the majority of humans, otherwise why make so many different devices for it.’

‘It may be widely practiced, but it sure as hell is not so openly discussed.’

‘Well I for one don’t see a problem in discussing such things. It is afterall only the two of us. Plus, I would have liked to compare notes.’

‘Notes?’

‘Yes. On my own experience.’

‘Don’t tell me you -

‘Experimented with all the fascinating technological advances human-kind has to offer a girl who had only recently acquired her landlegs? You bet your tail I have.’

‘Abby!’ Bulma yelled, scandalized. Abby chuckled. ‘Where did you even get them?’

‘Online.’

‘You better not have used my profile, Abelone.’

‘I might have.’

‘Neptune kill me.’ Bulma whined, thinking of all the ads that will soon be popping up on her profile.

‘What? It’s not like I have any money here? I had to use your profile. Speaking of, I can’t believe the advances humans have made in their communication and information sharing.’

‘Yeah, the internet pretty much changed everything here.’

‘We should get it back home. It could be one of your first laws as Queen once this android business is done with.’

‘Get what? The internet or the sextoys?’

‘Both. Obviously.’

‘Seriously Abby, you’re unbelievable.’ Bulma said, exasperated.

‘We’ve been literally living under a rock, Bull Shark. We need to get out of the dark ages… also quite literally. I mean, our host has just created a device that can record and transmit our language from one device to another. He even got it to work underwater. I’ve seen you working in these labs, too. You know how their things work. You’re an intelligent mermaid Bulma, I’m sure you and Briefs can build on that technology to create our own long distance communication device, like a telephone.’

Bulma remained silent, considering the possibilities. Up until then she had purposefully avoided thinking about her future and the responsibilities that waited for her back in her home-world. She never considered what her experiences on land could mean for her own race, that it could reopen the gateway that separated their two worlds, with her as a conduit. She’d stubbornly been thinking that their lives would continue as is. Hearing Abelone speak on the potential improvements their society stood to gain implementing some of technology found here on land… She would be selfish to want to keep that from them.

‘We can become better. All of the merraces could gain from all you’ve learned these past few months, but we need you, Bulma, to be the bridge between our two worlds.’ Abelone said, her tone reverent. Bulma felt her hand unconsciously drift to her belly. 

‘I know you care for this Saiyan, Bulma and you probably do not want to leave, but it does not have to be all or nothing. A new world doesn’t happen over one active cycle. There’s a lot of work still required, here on land and back in the ocean. Also, think: the Council might not be as opposed to your reign when they find out they would be able to keep their power in your absence.’

The hope and excitement in Abby’s voice was starting to become infectious and Bulma allowed herself to imagine, for the first time, a future beyond the androids. She thought of all the concepts and ideas that she learned of on lands that would be a benefit to her people. She imagined her world governed by a democratically elected ruler, not just someone born to the role, which she considered a win-win for all parties involved. As Abby said, it would not happen overnight, but it was possible. She would need to be their Queen first before she can be their president. Maybe it wouldn’t happen in her generation, maybe her son would be the one to usher in this new era of governance, but it could be achieved and she could do this, she realized. She would do it. For her people and her son. She would make her world better.

‘Well, when you put it that way, how could I refuse?’ Bulma finally answered and felt the rush of joy that overcame Abby as she launched herself at Bulma.

When the mermaids had enough of celebrating, Bulma decided that it was time to set things in motion. Which was how four sleepy-eyed mers came to be in her room at 7:30AM in the morning. They all woke up pretty fast as Bulma started explaining her ideas to them.

‘I know it’ll be an obstacle, but the old Council has got to go. They are too stuck in their ways to see the merit in the progress I am proposing, so the first thing I will need is for a few of you to head back home. I need the favor of the people. I need them to know that I carry their future King and that I have not abandoned them. They need to know that the prophecy is being fulfilled, but that a great battle has to occur first. Ray, Lapis, can I trust the two of you with this?’

‘Yes, General.’ the two of them answered in unity.

‘What about the rest of us, General?’ Marlin suddenly asked.

‘Blade will need to navigate us back.’ Ray said. We’ve come a long way and the route is treacherous and more than a little confusing. We need Razor to show us the way back, and he won’t leave without Blade.’

‘That is acceptable. As for you, Marlin. I shall require another mer to test out the new equipment that I’m going to design. I suspect you’ll have to make frequent visits to the ocean. And Abby… you have experience with birthing and caring for young ones, yes?’

‘Fat lot of good it’s going to do me if you’re asking what I think you’re asking. You’re carrying a hybrid.’

‘Just in case, I’ll need you present, if it’s not too much to ask. Just until after he’s born,’ she said rubbing her belly soothingly, ‘then you can join the others in promoting my campaign.’ 

‘It will be my honor, Princess.’ was Abby’s solemn vow.

* * *

Vegeta held himself still, waiting for the next blast to shoot at him from one of the bots floating in the air around him. He heard the beam fire and dodged as it flew at his exposed back. He watched it ricochet against another bot then felt another beam come for his side at the same time the ricocheted beam was heading for his front. He twisted in the air, feeling the heat of both beams brush by his body over his chest and lower back, just to bat away a fresh beam with his forearm that was fired from the bot closest his right. He continued for another ten minutes until all ten energy beams found their inevitable end after their tenth ricochet, respectively, signalling the end of the exercise.

He dropped down to the floor, panting hard as his sweat dripped heavily to the floor at 450Gs. The Briefs man did well, he thought. Not only did he restock his ship, he also added a few new programs to his training-droids. Unfortunately, three of his eight droids had already met their tragic end when a training exercise became a little too intense. However, his strength still continued to grow in leaps and bounds. The Super-Saiyan transformation still eluded him, much to his chagrin, but Vegeta knew that when he finally did achieve it, he would be more than 50 times stronger than Frieza. Stronger than the purple-haired boy was when he defeated the tyrant and his father. He could probably even take Frieze in his current state. The thought was satisfying.

However, Vegeta knew that there was something he was missing. He felt the well of power, bubbling just under that hard to find threshold. The feeling of that strength, that potential being so close yet just out of reach; it was maddening. He had more than enough strength, he was decades stronger that Kakarot was when he first made the transformation, which means that physical strength might not be the key after all.

Vegeta heard the hum of the droids rebooting as they prepared for the next round of training and issued the command to end the exercise. As much as he hated it, he was at a dead end. He could continue to train and increase his base strength, but it wouldn’t bring him any closer to the Legendary. As loath as he was to think it, he required Kakarot’s assistance. With a sigh, Vegeta rose and returned to the navigation console. He wouldn’t ask, he resolved, his pride wouldn’t allow him to ask for anything from that third-class. Especially not after the humiliation he suffered on Namek. He would however not be opposed to beat it out of the clown. Besides, he reasoned, he was curious to see how much Kakarot has improved and if he could take Vegeta on in his new and improved base form. As he felt the rocket launchers engage below him, Vegeta spared a thought for his woman, wondering if she would be happy of his return, or disappointed in him for not achieving what he set out to do. He would find out soon enough, he guessed, watching the words  **Earth. ETA 23 days** displaying on the ship’s nav-systems window. 

* * *

As the weeks flew by, with not much to do as her belly steadily grew larger, Bulma felt like she had gained a new purpose in life working with Dr. Briefs. They had taken his neural communication technology, combined it with Vegeta’s scouter tech that Dr Briefs also managed to salvage, and had managed to create a telepathy-phone of sorts. They called it a neurocom. By using the Capsule Corp radio tower and installing telepathy transceivers, they could now communicate over a large distance. Doctor Briefs had even begun working on mapping telepathic language to a text interface because, as they discovered, not all humans had the ability to pick up on telepathy even with the device. Their brain’s natural defenses were too strong to overcome. With Bulma’s feminine touch, they had managed to make the new communicator look less like a torture contraption and more like a diadem of sorts and Bulma was currently wearing the prototype and getting ready to commence the second stage of beta testing. An artificial gem the size of her thumb-pad hung tastefully on her forehead and housed the device circuitry. It would light up when communications were active.

Taking a big breath, Bulma pressed the button located at her temple.

‘Call Marlin’ she spoke telepathically.

‘Bulma, is that you?’ Then ‘Is this thing on?’

Bulma laughed. ‘Oh hey! There you are Bulma. I take it this means it works.’

‘Yes, Marlin. It does. What’s your position?’

‘According to this here thing I got, I seem to be 5 klicks North-northwest from the tower by the sea. 300 meters down.’

‘Hmm.. there seems to be no lag in the transmission so I’d say our signal propagation calculations seem to be spot on.’

‘Sweet. Wait, hold on Bulma…’ Marlin suddenly said and then ‘Dude, seriously. I am not food.’ then more silence.

‘Marlin, you okay?’

‘Yeah. Just this stupid shark I had to deal with. I mean, do I look like a sea lion to you?’

‘Okay Marlin, Focus. I need you to head further down. I need to know when the signal cuts out so if possible, can you keep talking while you’re descending. Maybe you can read out your depth every 50 meters.’

‘Sure thing, General…. 350….400’

Something impacted the earth with a loud crash, causing everything to vibrate. Bulma was suddenly out of her chair, running for the elevators. Was it him? She couldn’t stop the hope from building. Marlin’s communication cut off but Bulma didn’t notice, she was too busy focusing her senses to try and search out his ki. Her heart was doing somersaults in her stomach… or was that the baby? Her belly was now the size of a basketball and maneuvering had become a bit difficult. Still she managed to waddle over to elevators with relative ease. It was slow progress but she made it, all the while strongly considering getting herself one of those motorized chairs that she saw old people riding around in. It would make things so much easier, she lamented. 

She found him in his old rooms. He was sitting on the bed, his back facing the doorway. He was freshly showered. She could see the steam drifting from his bathroom and smell the soap in the air. Upon her entrance he paused, one boot in hand. He was dressed only in his training bottoms. His old armor was lying in one corner, scuffed and dirty but otherwise unharmed. Bulma found herself admiring the bare skin of his back, cataloging his old scars and noting new ones. There were a few dark marks over his skin, ki-burns, she recognized, in various stages of healing. His body was notably bigger than the last time she saw him, his back wider and his arms thicker. He really put himself through the wringer and it seemed he wasn’t done yet if his state of half-dress was any indication.

“Welcome back” she finally spoke, knowing instinctively that he wasn’t going to be the one to start their interaction. She saw his shoulders tense momentarily. Then, efficiently, he pulled on his remaining boot and turned to face her. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly upon seeing her, dropping down to her very large belly. 

“Yeah. I’m not the only one that grew in these last few months… You look good, Vegeta.”

“When…” he started, then glanced at her belly again. Bulma sighed in exasperation and walked towards him.

“Have you lost your words, my Prince?” she asked upon reaching him, a little amusement in her tone. 

“Tch...” was his dismissive reply, but she noted the slight pinkening of his cheeks.

She wanted to touch him. Even now she felt the heat radiating from his naked skin. His pectoral muscles were much larger, his abdomen just as lean and ripped and begging for her fingers, but for some reason she felt awkward, unsure of herself so she placed her hand on her belly instead, the other one supporting her lower back which seemed in a near constant state of tension nowadays.

“If you’re wondering when your son will be born, our data says it should be just over a month from now.” He took a deep breath, seeming to absorb the information. Then nodded his acknowledgment. “Will you be here for the birth?” she asked timidly.

“Woman, I have to leave.” he said with a sigh.

“Where are you going? You just got here.”

“I need to go beat the snot out of Kakarot.”

“I take it that you did it then?” she asked, hope and happiness blossoming in her chest at his achievement. It died swiftly, however when she noted the ticking in his clenched jaw. His posture was suddenly rigid, fists clenched beside him.

“I’m... close.” he answered.

“Oh.” she said, and sighed, “I’m sorry. I guess there’s still time, so whatever you need to do… I’ll support you Vegeta. Even if you have to leave the planet again.” She then turned to leave, sighing with resignation.

“Bulma.” She was halfway to the door, but paused on his address, turning to watch him expectantly.

“It’s... good to see you, Woman.”

She beamed and felt her feet carrying her back to him. She attempted to hug him, but with her big belly a mountain between their bodies, it was a complicated endeavor, not made easier by Vegeta himself doing his damnedest to imitate a plank of wood.

Standing back, she asked, “Shall I ask Mrs Briefs to prepare dinner for you tonight?” and struggled to contain the hope in her tone. He watched her warily for a beat, then nodded stiffly. She sighed happily and was about to turn to go again before she noted his hand twitch and raise slightly towards her. He seemed to change his mind, his fingers curled into a fist again and settling at his side.  _ Well, that will certainly not do, _ she thought and grabbed his wrist, placing his palm on her belly. His other hand seemed to follow on its own volition and then he was holding her belly, cupping his son between his palms. She watched his face and saw the stoic expression melt away into one of awe and felt her chest swell with love for him. 

“I missed you.” she said softly, almost fearfully, unwilling to ruin the moment but needing to get the words out. His eyes shot to hers, then narrowed as if he was struggling with something. Her baby chose that moment to make himself known with a rather stiff kick, right against the cupping palm of his father and Bulma winced at the accompanying twinge of pain. Vegeta’s one hand dropped from her stomach and he looked at it curiously, then back at her.

“He’s strong.” he stated, pride coloring his tone.

“Apparently so.” Bulma answered with a frown, rubbing the spot that he just kicked.

“Does it hurt?” 

“Sometimes, not always. I can handle it. I’m not a weakling, you know.” she said, a bit testily.

Vegeta smirked. A bit of his old personality finally shining through. “I never said you were, Woman.” was his haughty reply.

“Good. Now go play with Goku. I have things to do.” she waved him off.

“Tch...” 

At the door she asked: “Will you be here for the birth?” He didn’t look at her, but she saw him nod. She smiled and attempted to leave again, but was again stopped stopped when he called out:

“And Woman.” she turned. “What the hell did you do to your hair?”

Bulma reached up, self consciously and touched the feathery curls piled on top of her head.

“It was getting tedious to dry it during the winter so I had it cut.” she defended. “Then the stylist told me that this style was low maintenance and all the rage this season. So I went with it.”

“It looks ridiculous.” He said, a taunting smirk on his face. 

“Well I don’t care what you think.” Bulma answered with a pout, and left him to his devices.

As Bulma was walking back to the labs, she suddenly remembered what she had been busy with and hastily pressed the button again to reconnect with Marlin.

‘Marlin?’

‘Yo, Bulma, what gives? Did you get your data?’

‘Uhm… not exactly. There was a bit of a disturbance here at the compound.’

‘Seriously? Oh man. I’m already on my way back.’

Bulma swore, then rubbed at the bridge of her nose in irritation. 

‘You okay, Bull shark? I can head back. It’s not that far.’

Bulma sighed, ‘No Marlin, it’s fine. It’s already late. You’re probably starving.’

‘Can’t argue with that.’

‘I’ll see you at the compound then… and for Neptune’s sake drive carefully or you’ll get someone killed.’

‘Oh come on, you can’t ask me to go easy on a machine that was built for speed. Besides, there’s not a lot of damage an airbike can do to anyone but myself.’

‘Then don’t get yourself killed.’ she scolded.

‘Psh. As if. I’m not a weak human.’

‘Whatever. Just be careful.’

‘Roger that, General… Heh, I always wanted to say that. Say, who is this Roger fella anyway and why do humans say his name when confirming an instruction.’

‘Marlin.’ Bulma’s impatience was clearly felt over the comms.

‘I’ll shut up then. See you at the compound.’ 

“So I hear your lover has returned from Space” were Abby's first words upon sitting down for lunch. Marlin’s response was to spew his drink all over his plate. Some of it even from his nose. As he was sputtering his recovery, Bulma winged up her brow in exasperation.

“Really Abby?”

“What do you mean ‘really’? I’m dying of curiosity here Angelfish. How can I not when you’ve been pining so wretchedly after this mysterious dark prince. Like when Fernando went off to war, unknowingly leaving a pregnant Gabriella to be spurned by society for her unwedded but obviously bedded state.”

“Abby! I didn’t watch that episode! You totally spoiled it.” Bulma yelled, ending in a pout. “And I’m not spurned by society!”

“That we know of. Wasn’t Ray supposed to report back by now?”

Bulma sighed. “Yeah” The little niggling of worry that she had been feeling about Ray’s continued absence was starting to stress her out. She couldn’t help the feeling that something wasn’t right.

“Ray will show, Bull Shark.” Marlin stated, finally recovered from his coughing fit, “He probably just got caught up with something.”

“I hope it’s nothing dangerous.”

“The Barracuda is no pushover, and he’s slick as hell. Whatever it is, he can probably handle it.” Marlin reassured. “So… your guy’s back, huh?”

“Yeah”

“What he say about the belly?” he asked, motioning at her distended stomach with his chopsticks.

“And where is he now?” Abby cut in.

“He’s not upset about it if that’s what you’re thinking,” she answered rubbing her belly soothingly, as she noticed the baby starting to act up in there. “And he’s out sparring with Goku.”

“I thought you said he wasn’t coming back for like, a year.” Marlin said.

“He probably missed you.” Abby sated. Bulma just shrugged.

“He said he’ll be in for dinner.”

“Fantastic. I can’t wait.” Abby said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my show’s about to come on.”

“You have too many shows Abelone.”

“Totally these human’s fault.” she ended, apologetically and sauntered away.

Bulma spent the rest of the afternoon going over the various blue-prints of ocean-adapted technology that she wanted to introduce to her society. At 3pm, she had her skype-conference with the team of marine-biologists, oceanographers and political leaders that she had been liaising with for the past few months. It took quite a few meetings for them to get over the fact that a whole other society exists in the earth’s oceans. Then there were the doomsdayers that had to be reassured that the world was not ending, androids notwithstanding, or that the earth won’t be taken over by the fish-people. Honestly, humans can be real idiots some time, even the supposedly intelligent ones. Then, after almost two months, when it was finally established that merpeople exist and do not pose a threat to land dwellers, negotiations had begun in earnest. There were still a few kinks to iron out, like the credibility of her authority to represent her people. But otherwise, the two peoples could really benefit from one another. So far, the negotiations were still kept under wraps, but plans were being made to establish first contact using the technology developed by Capsule Corp. If only she could get some damn intel from her still MIA Lieutenant.


	21. The Seal of Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ray is in hot water again.
> 
> Vegeta struggles with the revelations of his spar with Goku, but Bulma refuses to let the sulky Prince wallow in misery much longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... It's been a while since I touched my laptop and realised that I've had this chapter laying in drafts since then. Sorry 'bout that.
> 
> Anyways, the final chapter is just about done... i think. Still a few kinks to iron out. 
> 
> On to the chapter then: Forecast - partly fluffy with a torrential downpour of smut.

For the second time in as many tides, Ray found himself floating before an impassive ring of stoic, judgmental faces. This time however, his outlook was not nearly as hopeful. But somehow he found himself just as, if not more determined than ever before.

The council stared him down, with eyes that managed to be stern and yet dead at the same time. A deafening silence echoed in the amphitheater-like room, all thoughts and expressions locked up tight in acknowledgement of the shitstorm that was about to be unleashed.

A pregnant pause; then High-Councilman Jahto spoke.

‘Lieutenant Naga. You have returned.’

Ray stayed silent in answer.

‘Not with the Princess, mind you, but instead with fanciful stories. Stories of surface-dwellers with extraordinary abilities. Of beasts of legend… Imoogis and Selachimorphians and Megeladons. You come bearing tales or heirs and prophecies fulfilled and imaginary threats from not yet existing beings… and with these stories you try and lead our people into revolt and rebellion against their rightful rulers: Against their Queen!’

‘I have spoken nothing untrue. Lapis-’

'Captain Silvertail is just as bewitched as you are. Her abilities have been compromised.’

‘Then get another Truth-seer.’

‘There are none to be found in this Queendom. Captain Silvertail’s successor is not yet fully trained.’

‘Convenient.’ Ray remarked, failing to completely disguise his sarcasm. Jahto’s eyes narrowed as he stared down Ray.

‘Where is Princess Bulma.’ he asked.

‘I’ve told you before. She is on the surface.’

‘And say we believe you in this. Say you really found her, Why did she not return with you? That was what you were tasked with doing, was it not?’

‘She cannot return yet. She is with-child.’

‘A landweller’s child!’ Jahto spat.

‘An abomination.’ someone else in the council said and murmurs of concurrences echoed through the hall. 

‘An Heir to both Land and Sea!’ Ray exclaimed.

‘Pah! Ridiculous. If your tales are to be believed the sire of this so-called heir is not even from this planet. You want us to accept some hybrid, whom we do not even know could survive in the ocean, as our sacred heir? You, Lieutenant, have lost your mind!’

Ray looked up toward the Queen. Her face, like that of many around her, remained stoic, but Ray could spy the subtle clenching of her fists on the armrests of her dais.

‘It is not the first time that the heir to the throne returned carrying a surface-dweller’s child.’

‘And look how well that worked out for the Royal bloodline. It cannot be allowed to be dirtied in such a manner again.’ Jahto declared and Ray noted a few heads behind him nodding in agreement.

‘The curse of Queen Aquellé must be broken the same way it was wrought. A mermaid and a surface-dweller divided the realms of earth. A prince and a princess caused the rift. So too will it be undone.’

‘Pah!’

Ray wasn’t surprised at his audience’s intransigence. Bulma had warned him of the consequences of this course. This is why he chose to remain under the sonar during his campaign. The story of their adventure had spread far and wide across the Queendom, told in seedy taverns and during covert conclaves.. The people believed easily because of Bulma’s popularity. The truth of their stories helped along by the Council’s own zealous search of Bulma all those tides back. A campaign that was aimed at destabilizing the power of the Council. It had been progressing swimmingly. Ray was speaking at a secret gathering, one of the many he had been doing since his return, when he was arrested for sedition. It was too late, however. The seed had already been planted. The Queendom was astir and everyone knew that the heir would soon be born. Fortunately Lapis was still in the current somewhere, continuing the work. She might even be able to return to Bulma to deliver the report that he had been unable to send, due to unexpected imprisonment. Until then however, Ray’s own work was not yet done. He took a deep breath, and spoke.

‘When stars decide to touch the sea.

The strongest one must then chosen be.

Blue is hailed to merge with black. 

The barren trident she brings back

The One who slumbers again must stir

For the royal challenge to occur

In battle, Grand: the victory –

Unites all of land and sea.

A golden crown he will wear –

The brown-tailed one with lilac hair.

Heir to both land and sea **’**

‘We know very well the words of our prophecy, Lieutenant.’ Jahto stated, but Ray heard the tremor in his tone. That niggling of doubt that he tried oh so hard to conceal. Ray smiled.

‘Good’ Ray affirmed. Then let his eyes dwell around the cavernous room. ‘Then let me proceed to tell you how your Warrior Princess, an Arowanian by both birth and by the mark of the three shaded tail, and the leader of your armies whose battle prowess and strategy knows no equal, proceeded to fulfill that prophecy.’

So he did, baring no interruption. And when they tried to drown him out with denials he used his superior telepathic strength to broadcast his voice over all their disputes until his message was heard by all present in that room and by those beyond their walls. This was what his princess tasked him with. He would not fail her.

‘Where is your proof?’ The voice was not Jahto’s, but softer, higher pitched. It wasn’t filled with disbelief, but rather hope. It belonged to the Queen. Her eyes were as soft as her voice, imploring. 

‘He has none.’ Jahto sneered disparagingly.

‘You ask me where my proof is, your Majesty? I ask you, I ask all of you, who claim to be true believers: Where is Your _Faith_?’

The room went silent again, as everyone seemed to process his reply.

‘Put him back in his cell.’ High Councilman Jahto said, his tone bitter with lingering defeat.

* * *

Three days. It had been three Neptune-damned days since Vegeta’s return from his trip to Mount Paozu, and Bulma hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him since. What use was having him back when he stays holed up in that damned Gravity room day and night. To say Bulma was exasperated was an understatement. She had needs, damn it! She didn’t think he was training either, because every time she checked on him she either didn’t see him, meaning he was below deck in the living area, and when she did spot him, the Saiyan was doing his level best to impersonate a Buddah statue on the floor of the training area. It was extremely frustrating, and enough was enough, she decided, and started a determined march - or rather, waddle - towards the labs. 

Once in her office, Bulma wasted no time logging into the Gravity Chamber’s communication system and found herself staring at an image of a meditating Vegeta.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked testily and saw his brow twitch. He opened one eye to stare haughtily at her image projected on the wall.

“What does it look like I’m doing, Woman?” he answered, his own tone confrontational.

“It looks like you’re avoiding me. What I want to know is, why?”

“You’re awfully full of yourself to think this is about you.”

“Well, who else would I be full of, Vegeta? It’s not like you’re exactly available from all the way down there.” Bulma huffed and smiled gleefully as he sputtered his indignation as the full meaning of her innuendo hit.

“You… you vulgar woman.” he exclaimed, and Bulma laughed saucily.

“I seem to recall that you rather enjoyed my vulgarity once upon a time. Enjoyed it thoroughly, over and over again.”

Vegeta stared at her stupidly for a moment and even with the red lighting in the chamber she could make out the darkening on his cheekbones.

“Tell you what, Vegeta. Why don’t come and sleep up in the house tonight.”

“But… you.. the babe-

“You know I don’t like to be denied, Vegeta.” she interrupted sternly.

His gaze locked with hers. Even through the computer screen, his eyes still seemed to bear the wealth of his emotions. She watched his internal struggle play off in that calculating depths and saw the moment he succumbed to her. He nodded stiffly and Bulma couldn’t contain her triumphant grin. “Now leave me be, Woman.” he scolded, “I’m… training”

* * *

Vegeta stared angrily at the ceiling that evening, cursing himself for his fondness when it came to that damned woman. He should be training. And therein lies the problem, for if he were _actually_ training his easy acquiescence to his woman’s summons would not really have bothered him as much. And yet, Vegeta was finding it really difficult to work up the motivation to continue, especially considering the advice that he managed to solicit from Kakarot with his fists. It was as he suspected, the key to becoming the legendary lay not in base strength, but in emotional vulnerability. Only when he sacrificed all his defenses, all his Control, would the power be released. Of all things, it just had to be something so diametrically opposed to his nature. He would need to willingly pursue something he considered a weakness and Vegeta was having a really hard time wrapping his head around that and was desperately looking for alternative options.

He was distracted from his musings by the sound of his door opening and the padding of her bare feet on his carpeted floor. He didn’t look at her, still a bit resentful of her influence over him, but listened as she paused by his bedside for a moment then felt the bed shift as she climbed on. His resolve to ignore her only lasted as long as it took her slip his shorts down his waist, and he felt her warm breath fan over his semi-erect member. When he finally glanced downward, the sight he was greeted with had all his blood rushing south turning his erection from semi to painful in a heartbeat.

On her knees, between his legs with a night garment so sheer it left absolute jack shit to his imagination, she crouched seductively. Her breasts were too large for the nightgown, and spilled shamelessly from the useless scraps of fabric cupping them, her darkened nipples grazed his thighs and the round swells of her luscious ass waved tantalizingly in air was, completely bared by the nightgown pooled around her rounded belly. The sight of her swollen belly gave him pause, uneasiness dampening his excitement and causing him to question the wisdom of this idea, but her mouth, gods damn it, how the fuck was he supposed to think straight when his cock was in her mouth. Still, he found his concern for the babe’s wellbeing gave him willpower enough to try:

“Woman, I don’t think this is a good ide- Ah fuck!” he faltered as he felt her throat contracting around him. His hands buried itself into her curls of their own volition, pushing them out of the way so he could watch her work him, taking all of him until he hit the back of her throat and sucking hard on the upstroke. His hips jerked helplessly at the sensation. She did it again, and again and his ability to reason vanished into thin air.

“You were saying, Vegeta?” she asked cheekily, when she came up for a breath, her tongue swirling teasingly around his head, paying special attention to the sensitive underside.

“Minx,” he said through gritted teeth, fist tightening in her hair “I forgot about that little trick of yours.” She was about to continue when he jerked on her hair, hindering her.

“Nng, Vegeta!” she scolded breathlessly. He wasn’t swayed however, his mental faculties reasserting themselves in the absence of her decadent mouth.

“Woman, the babe... Is this safe?”

“It’s safe as long as it’s comfortable for me” she quickly reassured. “I’ve read lots of books on it.” He relaxed his grip, and she went right for his shaft again, setting a relentless and punishing pace, that had his spine tingling with an impending climax barely a minute in. Her arousal scented the air, the smell drugging his already overstimulated senses and causing his mouth to water.

“Turn around.” he ordered, hoarsely. She ignored him and he tightened his grip on her hair again.

“Bulma, turn around.” he ordered again, more assertively and helped her position herself to straddle his shoulders, the source of her intoxicating scent hovering just over his head. He wasted no time, and dove right in, groaning as her taste hit his tongue. Bulma arched upward and mewled in pleasure, hips gyrating as she rode his face. He felt her attempt to lean forward to resume her own earlier activity, but her belly was a frustrating obstruction.

“Vegeta!” she whined, “I can’t reach.”

“I don’t care. It’s my turn,” he answered, his voice muffled.

“Vegeta!” she scolded, but her frustration was soon forgotten as he increased the intensity of his assault, his tongue working relentlessly. Spurred on by her litany vocal and sometimes telepathic encouragement, Vegeta took her right to the edge, then sucked hard on that little bundle of nerves at the top of her sex. She screamed his name as she came, and he felt her nails dig into the top of his thighs as she convulsed on top of him. He continued lapping at her, working her through the last of her spasms until she collapsed beside him in a boneless heap.

“Give me a minute to find my brain” she panted after a moment, “And we’ll take care of this.” she said, gripping his still engorged erection.

“Woman -” he started hesitantly, but before he could protest she was up and over him, gliding her heat all over him. He cursed, and gripped her hips before the insatiable wench injured herself. He rolled her onto her back, mindful of her delicate state.

“Now Vegeta,” she moaned, “Oh Neptune Vegeta, I can’t wait.”

He cursed again, but as usual couldn’t find the will to deny her. He entered her slowly, hissing at the wet heat gripping him. She was tighter than he remembered her to be, and still spasmed around him in sporadic bursts. Once seated to the hilt, he couldn’t help the groan that escaped him as something inside him quietly clicked into place at their intimate joining. He felt, in a word, complete. It was exhilarating and unnerving all at once. He took a moment to appreciate the view. From their position he could see all of her, just slightly obscured by her nightgown. Now, that simply will not do, he decided. Letting her thighs rest over his, Vegeta made quick work of relieving her of the provocative nightwear, baring her completely to him. He stared hungrily at her full breasts, her nipples thick and darker than he remembered, and trailed his eyes downwards over her rounded belly, the sight of it caused the primal part of him to rear up and roar with satisfaction at seeing her so thoroughly and obviously claimed. Seeing his seed growing healthy and strong in her belly. His mate. His son. He started moving with deep sure strokes, listening to her cues as she cried out her pleasure. Time lost meaning and the world disappeared around them as their pleasure built and he reveled in it: the lewd sounds of their flesh colliding, the scent of their sex in the air and how devastatingly beautiful she looked as he fucked her. He watched his cock pistoning into her glistening folds. Her big breasts bounced with every hard thrust, her crystal blue eyes were half-lidded and glazed over. He could feel the telltale tightening at the base of his spine, signalling his impending orgasm, and dragged his eyes away from the licentious view, needing her completion first. Her moans had become intelligible sounds of ecstasy, so he delved into her mind to gauge her readiness. Their combined pleasure had him thickening in an instant, on the verge of exploding, and he bit his lip in an attempt to stave off the urge. He lifted her legs over his shoulder, shifted his position until he felt, though their mental link, himself grazing that sensitive little spot deep inside her. She went wild, bucking and tearing at the sheets and he struggled to steady her. He gritted his teeth as he rode her on that knife’s edge, grunting with increasing effort as the volume of her cries crescendoed. Their combined orgasms was a tsunami of sensation, flooding his every sense with rapture, momentarily blinding him and he crowed, actually fucking chest-rumbling-roared his release, and fell into oblivion.

When he regained his sensibility, she was tucked into the crook of his arm, her heavy belly resting halfway over his stomach. He looked her over, still a bit shell-shocked after experiencing her orgasm the way he did. Their eyes met, hers blinking in tired satisfaction. He wanted to ask her what the hell just happened, but found that words weren't possible in his current state of mind, so he did what he’d been craving to do ever since she entered his room after he landed back on earth. He kissed her. She tasted as he remembered, just more… potent. Everything about her was more potent. His Saiyan genetics made him sensitive to the changes in her hormonal state, and he could easily pick up on the increased amount of pheromones raging through her body.

“I’m happy that you linked with me the way you did, right at the end.” she said, as their lips parted. “It’s the way of my people, I’m told.”

“Hmm” he grunted. His one hand went to play absently with her curly hair. The texture was almost completely different to what her silky strands used to feel like. His short nails grazed her scalp and she sighed in pleasure, relaxing into him.

“You never came to dinner that evening.” she continued, and he heard the petulance in her voice. “My friends were very disappointed. They wanted to meet you.”

His hand paused. “Friends?” he asked, his brow furrowing.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed two odd colored humanoids running around the compound.”

“I really didn’t notice much of anything, given that I was… otherwise occupied.”

“Don’t remind me” she said with a hint of bitterness. He rolled his eyes, exasperated. She sighed.

“Well, a lot has happened since you left… besides the obvious.” she stated, indicating her belly. “Some of my comrades from my home had managed to track me down, if you can believe that” she continued, and he tensed, an uneasy feeling worming its way into his gut.

“Also, Dr Brief finished his telepathy converter that he was working on.”

Vegeta felt the uneasiness grow as she informed him of the events that occurred in the last few months. From her intentions to reform her people’s government, her ideas to integrate the two societies and all of the technological advances she was planning to introduce to her people. 

“We’re planning on building an underwater base, just off the coast of West City.”

“And you expect the Council to just fall in line?” he questioned, “From everything that you told me about them, it’s highly unlikely that they would ever quietly accept all of your fantastical revolutionary ideas.”

“Of course not, but as I explained, I’ve got a plan to deal with that as well.”

“Your plans are pointless if you don’t have a solid base of power with which to back them up.”

“Whose side are you on anyway?” she complained. 

“Bulma, destabilizing a civilization is something I have endless experience with. It’s a necessary skill in the Planet Trade Organization, especially if you were part of the first purge squad.”

“You seriously can’t compare what you did with-

“I can, and I am.” he interrupted. “A Council of Elders is notoriously difficult to oust without exterminating the lot of them. Their influences are often extensive. They use religious zealotry and the gullibility of the people to keep a tight reign over their power. In most cases, using this zealotry as an excuse to commit heinous acts under the guise of it being the will of some deity. Meanwhile, all they do is solidify their own power by eliminating their enemies and spreading fear and superstition among the people. Under such a Council, executions for heresy are par for the course”

“My plan makes sense then. I will become their prophesied one, they will not be able to deny me and save face.” 

Vegeta’s chuckled darkly at her naivety. “Tell me, Woman. Have you ever read the religious text called ‘The Bible’? They will paint you as a false prophet and deny your birthright at every turn.”

“Well what do you expect me to do?” she yelled, irritably. Vegeta sighed.

“Do you really want to pursue this course? Return to a people that could reject you as easily as they love you?” She paused, and Vegeta watched the worry flit over her brow before it forked downwards into a determined expression he was intimately familiar with. She belonged to another world, the realization causing something inside him to crack. And they belonged to her. Vegeta discerned that he really had no recourse but to support her in her quest. For his woman, despite her seemingly fragile state, was a true warrior and nothing but death would keep her from achieving her goals. The crushing pressure settling on his chest was almost crippling as he contemplated a future without her. He would not lose her, he determined, and if he had to share her then so be it.

“I can no longer give him a throne,” he stated finally, resting his hand on her swollen belly. “But you can… I will assist you. After the androids”

“After the androids” she agreed, laying her hand over his. A covenant. A pact to survive and triumph over the fate that lay before them, and in that moment, their son decided to move and he could feel the outline of a little hand pressing up against his palm to seal the contract made between the three of them that night.


	22. The Heir Arrives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prince of Saiyans and the Princess of the oceans navigate the new dynamics of their relationship as the time grows ever closer for the fortold heir to be born.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just noticed that the final chapter 22 is being posted on the 22nd... purely coincidental but kinda funny.
> 
> Anyway peeps, it's finally time for this story to end. Honestly its been a long 7 years. I do have to mention however, that I am planning a sequel. Although when that will happen is anybody's guess. 
> 
> So without further ado...  
> Forecast for this chapter: Fluffy skies ahead and a teensy weensy bit of angst.

The next morning, Vegeta was sitting at the kitchen island, a spread of his favorite foods laid out before him. As he ate, he could grudgingly admit that Earth did indeed have some redeeming qualities, despite being a backwater mud ball of a planet. It felt good being treated like the royalty he is. The cause of his royal treatment, the Brief's woman, was currently tottering about in the kitchen, preparing his dessert. His woman was asleep in his bed, worn out from their nightly activities. He had been worried at first, when he found her still asleep after he returned from his early morning training session, concerned that he overtaxed her already strained body. Until the Briefs woman casually mentioned that gestating females normally require more than the usual amount of sleep. So, with his appetites tended to, both carnal and culinary, he was well on his way to having a very satisfying morning. That is, until he noticed an unfamiliar ki approaching the kitchen, coming from the laboratory. The energy was higher than that of a human's, and felt similar to Bulma's. He deduced that it must be one of the 'friends' that she was referring to last night. A woman entered not long afterwards. She was drying dark green hair with a towel wrapped about her shoulders. Wearing what Vegeta had come to know as pool attire with a piece of patterned cloth wrapped around her body for modesty. What little of her body he did notice was rather unimpressive: thin limbs made to look even thinner by their longer length and lack of muscle definition. Definitely not the body of a fighter, he surmised, despite the higher than average power level. She froze as she noticed him. Their eyes met. Hers was an interesting shade of green, so pale it almost seemed gray. Her expression betrayed momentary surprise, but then to Vegeta's surprise, a sneer rolled over her face and her eyes dimmed like a thundercloud, literally turning stormy gray. Vegeta could almost sense the dislike rolling off her in waves. Vegeta raised an eyebrow, intrigued at what he could have done to invoke the ire of someone he had never met. Not that he hadn't received similar reactions before, what with his spectacular reputation and all that, but since this green-haired woman had no cause to know about his bloody past, Vegeta couldn't help but find her reaction intriguing. He eyed her lazily, actions reminiscent of how a cat would react to an interesting morsel that unknowingly wandered into its sight.

"So," the woman said, "you must be the infamous Prince Vegeta, then." she greeted, a noticeable coolness in her tone. She approached his table. Vegeta tensed, muscles bunching in preparation for combat but the woman simply plucked an apple from the fruit bowl before him. She smelled of seafoam, salt and something citrusy that reminded him of lime. Her proximity annoyed him. His chest rumbled, emitting an involuntary growl at what he saw as an invasion of his territory. The woman froze, eyes widening marginally in fear as some primitive instinct warned her of the predator she had unwittingly antagonized. The moment ended quickly as reason reasserted itself and Vegeta noted her eyes narrowing in indignation. Vegeta wondered if all mermaids had such easily-riled tempers or if Bulma had simply found a kindred spirit in this one. The reminder that the female was most likely a friend of his mate was the only thing preventing him from wringing her neck.

"What crawled up your butt and died, your Highness?" she sassed, but wisely backed away from his feast.

This woman represented the part of Bulma that he would never possess, that would always seek to separate her from him and he hated it. That hatred could so very easily be transferred to the piqued woman snarling at him, if not for the reminder that Bulma most probably felt dearly about her. He could hardly tell her all that so he offered her the next best reason for his sudden animosity towards her.

"Don't. Touch. My. Food." he iterated every word, slowly, trying to control his own ire and the urge to backhand the insolent wench across the room. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise before lowering slowly. Her expression turned taunting as she slowly and deliberately licked her pilfered fruit. The woman had a death wish, he thought, temper steadily rising with each passing moment. Her other hand suddenly produced what Vegeta recognized as the salt shaker, also stolen from his table, and she dusted the apple with salt. It crunched as she bit into it. As she chewed her salt-seasoned apple, she looked between Vegeta's food, to him and back to the food again. She swallowed. "What's your deal? it's not like you're gonna eat all of that."

"I most certainly will, Mermaid." he answered. Again, those expressive eyebrows betrayed her shock.

"Seriously?"

He didn't dignify her with an answer, just calmly went back to devouring his breakfast. After a moment:

"Neptune's Trident! You weren't kidding! Where does all the food go?" Vegeta glared at the woman, who it seems had not taken the hint to get lost and was now casually perched on the opposite end of his table, eyeing him like he was the most interesting thing on the planet… granted he probably was, he thought haughtily, but did this woman really have to be so uncouth about it. She was still salting her apple before every bite, each crunch grating more on his nerves.

Bulma' s Friend, he thought and repeated it a few times in his head as a reminder that strangling the female would be a very bad idea. He suddenly wished for Bulma's presence. In his opinion, it was way too early to be dealing with people, especially after he'd grown used to his solitary existence these past few months. The Brief's woman he would still tolerate, yes she talked a lot but he could easily tune out her inane chatter and focus solely on the food she provided him. This one before him… her scrutiny was making him uncomfortable, made worse by the fact he couldn't just blast her into oblivion, as his first instinct urged him to do.

"I'm Abelone, by the way. Abelone Perodite."

Swallowing, he replied "Do I look like I give a shit?"

"No." she answered plainly with a nonchalant shrug, taking another obscenely loud bite. He sighed. Mrs. Briefs chose that moment to stroll by, depositing a plate of freshly sliced sashimi on a bed of greens in the mermaid's hands. The mermaid beamed at her hostess, eyes lightening from grey to sage and making her look rather radiant. If he hadn't already gotten used to the idiosyncrasies of Bulma's physiology he would find the sudden transformation rather eerie. "Thanks Panchy." The mermaid said.

"You're welcome Abby."

The mermaid then dusted her new meal with more salt, set the shaker back on the table and walked off.

"See you around I guess." she said, sauntering away.

Vegeta was just getting back into the swing of things, setting a steady yet brisk pace, working through the rest of his meal when his senses picked up a second ki approaching. Stronger, but distinctly Mer as he was learning to distinguish. It was not his woman's ki however, so Vegeta sighed and looked at his food, debating whether it would be cowardly to get up now in order to avoid another confrontation with someone he was not allowed to kill. His debate lasted only long enough for him to realize he would be abandoning his food to another, and a Saiyan never abandons a meal he can defend. So Vegeta grit his teeth and tried to imagine this encounter as one of many a political tête-à-tête he was forced to attend in Frieza's Empire. Where no matter how badly he wanted to crush the stuck-up, self-entitled dignitary's head with his bare fist, he'd have to stay his hand, reminded that the benefits of their continued existence outweighed the momentary satisfaction of having their blood on his pristine white gloves. In this case, the benefit would be the continued happiness of his woman and her positive regard of him. Her affection and approval had become tantamount to breathing to Vegeta, as pathetic as it may be. He already resigned himself to the fact that the Woman was his vulnerability, his only concession to softness. She had buried herself so deep within his cold heart, carving out a place there, that to try and remove her now would be akin to ripping himself in half. So he would bear her obnoxious companions… and by bear he meant Not Kill. He'll consider it as practice for when he would help her establish her throne.

Vegeta grinned, and it was the type of grin that if anyone saw him at that moment they would turn on their heel and retreat from the room, because Vegeta realized that just because he couldn't kill them didn't mean he couldn't put the fear of the gods in them. He would have started cackling maniacally if the other Mer didn't choose that moment to walk into the room, a male this time.

"Hey Abs, have you seen my neurocom-" he shouted, but stopped dead as he beheld Vegeta seated at the table. "Uhm… Good Morning" he stuttered, then noticed the food and his face visibly brightened. "A buffet! Oh man, thanks Mrs B!" The broad shouldered, red-haired man yelled and made his way towards Vegeta. As he was reaching for something, Vegeta heard the one called Abby start to yell a warning. If the merman had bothered looking up he would have seen the diabolical smirk Vegeta was sporting.

Unfortunately, the cherry-haired merman did not notice the warning glint in the Saiyan Prince's eyes, nor did he pay attention to his comrade's attempt to alert him, which is exactly how he found himself dangling by the throat from the vice that was Vegeta's grip less than a heartbeat later.

"Worm, you dare touch my food?" Vegeta's words were soft, but the underlying danger in them couldn't be denied. If the merman had been able to breath, his brain would have had enough oxygen to wonder how in the world someone so obviously shorter and smaller than himself would have hoisted him so far up that his feet didn't reach the floor. He would have only needed to look down and see his assailant hovering off the floor, but since he had neither the brain function nor the ability to move his head to do any of that, he simply resorted to doing what he could, which was to attempt to pry the obstruction from around his neck. A wasted effort, Vegeta could have told him, if he was feeling charitable. He wasn't. So he watched the man writhing and struggling in his grip, like the worm he had previously compared him to.

Vegeta was assessing the wheezing man with a contemplative stare, calculating how much time the man could still go without air before he passed out. The merman's face was making a decent attempt at matching the shade of his hair. Vegeta figured he should probably drop him when he started turning purple. Should be any minute now judging by the blue already bleeding into his lips and around his mouth.

The saiyan felt an object whirl past him at a speed, catching the object's profile in his peripheral before it flew out of sight. It was one of those weapons that Bulma used when she first washed ashore: a trident. He heard a slap as the weapon collided with something behind him - probably the other female's grip. Almost immediately he felt an energy blast building behind him, quite a strong one at that. Interesting… He would have to revise his initial judgement of the green haired one, he thought. She was more powerful than she seemed.

"Drop him!" the mermaid demanded, and Vegeta swiveled slightly, so he could observe the new threat. He smirked.

"If you're going to use that thing, mermaid. You better be sure that you're fast enough… he's head looks about ready to pop." He said, making no effort to disguise his amusement. She stood battle-ready, a ball of green glowing energy was gathered in the center of her trident. She seemed confident enough, but couldn't hide the trembling in her hands. Vegeta felt his grin widen. He forgot how much fun tormenting people could be. He kind of missed it. But... he dropped the cherry head, with a sigh. The merman had long since stopped struggling anyway and was hanging limp in Vegeta's grip. Vegeta watched as his face, that had become an interesting shade of puce, slowly regained its original color as the merman hacked and wheezed.

"Dude!" he exclaimed, between coughing fits. "What is your problem?"

The other mermaid had since lowered her weapon, but was still loosely gripping in in her fist. Vegeta turned on his heel, satisfied that the alpha in the room had been established. He looked pointedly at the big man still rubbing his throat soothingly, then at the female still brimming with adrenaline at the balcony entrance. Then he took his seat.

Bulma entered the room soon after. Vegeta was tracking her energy so he wasn't surprised when she showed up.

"Morning everyone" she greeted, still rubbing sleep from her eyes. She was wearing a patterned silk robe, the sash of it tied beneath her breast, emphasizing her round belly. Vegeta suppressed the urge to growl again, thinking that she'd better be wearing something decent underneath that flimsy robe, but from the way that certain things were jiggling with each step, he wouldn't bet on it. Bulma's eyes went to Vegeta and a beaming smile lit her face.

"Vegeta. I thought you'd be training by now."

"Hmm" he grunted in reply.

"I'm not complaining. Who am I to spurn the opportunity to enjoy the pleasure of your company."

Outside, someone choked on something. Bulma looked towards her friends curiously, her eyes narrowing as she watched the green haired female helpfully slapping the big male on his back. Her eyes swiveled back to Vegeta, suspicion darkening them.

"Why are my friends sitting outside?" she asked, her tone souring with accusation. She took a seat close to him and started stacking a plate she found nearby. Before Vegeta could answer, Abby spoke from outside.

"Because you're boyfriend's an ass, Bulma!" she exclaimed, getting up to stalk inside. "And, I'm sorry to say, Princess, but he also might be slightly homicidal." Vegeta snorted. Bulma shot him a glare.

"Well if you think he's only slightly homicidal then he must have been in a good mood this morning," Bulma replied. "Also, you really seem to be getting good at human colloquialisms Abby… you're even cussing like a local." she started eating, then added, "Oh my Neptune, this is So good!" with a particularly salacious moan. Vegeta's mind was suddenly transported a few hours back as he recalled her moaning in that exact way for a very different reason. His blood started heating, feeling the stirrings of arousal combine with his annoyance at her for her, in his opinion, publicly wanton behavior. He couldn't quite decide which emotion was stronger. He finally settled on anger when she reached for another bread roll and her robe gaped open at her chest revealing the swell of her breast, confirming that she was indeed naked under the robe.

"For fuck's sakes, Woman!" he scolded, "do you have to be so vulgar in public?"

"Vulgar?"

"Yes! It's bad enough that you make weird sounds at the table, but is it so hard to put on some damn clothes before you come downstairs?!"

"But I'm wearing a nightgown." she defended with a pout.

"That's hardly enough"

"Well I would have been wearing something underneath if someone hadn't thought it a good idea to rip up my sleepwear."

"Sleepwear? The thing was gods-damned see-through!"

"Yes well, you didn't seem to mind that much last night, now did you?" she asked with a haughty sniff and Vegeta felt his face heat to the point of pain. His brain stuttered. He honestly had no idea how to reply to that… and at the fucking breakfast table no less. He looked over to her friend whose wide eyes flitted between the two of them in obvious bewilderment. Then he saw amusement dance in those expressive grey-green eyes, as her her lips tilted-up at the corners. Vegeta felt the beginnings of a headache tapping at his temples.

"Just… go get dressed," he said with a defeated sigh.

"After breakfast." Bulma agreed with a cheerful nod. "Which is lovely, by the way. Where is Panchy? She really outdone herself."

Vegeta refused to answer, moodily consuming the rest of his meal. He saw Bulma shrug from his peripheral and also dig in. Good, he thought, the child needs all the sustenance she could give him to grow healthy and strong. Although, it seems there's not much growing still left to do, he noted with a frown. The green-haired one was still hovering. Seemingly uncertain as to how to proceed now that their spat was apparently over. It seemed to annoy Bulma as well for she suddenly huffed

"Oh for the love of… would you sit down, Abby. You're making me dizzy."

"You sure he won't bite my head off?" Abby said nastily, pointing at Vegeta. Bulma sighed.

"He'll behave." Bulma said.

"I'm not a damned dog."

"Coulda fooled me." Abby grumbled and Vegeta hissed in annoyance. Vegeta watched the other mermaid sit down, his eyes flashed in warning, but he allowed it. "Are you going to strangle me too if I grab a plate?" she asked, eyeing him warily.

"What?" Bulma said, bewildered.

"Are you asking me or telling me?" Vegeta replied, ignoring Bulma's outburst, his voice again dropping to that soft-spoken, dangerous tone. He saw uncertainty flitting on her face.

"Asking." She finally answered. Vegeta sighed, then stood up.

"I'm done anyway." He said, and walked out, ignoring Bulma's ongoing queries about 'strangulations'. It was time to get back to training.

"Oh gods of the deep blue sea, Bulma. What the hell do you see in him?" were Abby's first words to her after Vegeta's abrupt exit. "Besides his body… whoo-ee that man is a snacc! Still, it doesn't make up for that horrible personality."

"Vegeta's not that bad, Abby." Bulma defended. "He's just a bit… prickly"

"If you mean prickly as in poisonous sea urchin, then I couldn't agree more." Marlin said as he plopped down beside her. His voice was a little hoarse. Bulma looked at him, noting the redness around his throat.

"Oh Neptune Marlin, what did you do?" He looked at her in bewilderment and she couldn't help noticing the accompanying redness in his eyes.

"Me?" he yelled defensively.

"Your man's just crazy, Bulma." Abby replied, "apparently has a thing with people touching his food… I'm surprised you're even alive." she informed her.

"It's a… uh, Saiyan thing I'm told." Bulma explained, "I asked him once why he never joined the table when the Briefs were eating. He said that sharing meals are limited to family units, comrades in arms and courting couples. If you attempt to eat at someone else's table you're basically challenging the Saiyan's right or to provide for his family or subordinates, especially if you're another male." She said then turned towards Marlin. "Are you okay?" she asked, voice betraying concern.

"I'll live." he simply answered, and started eating, wincing a bit when he had to swallow. Bulma sighed.

"You still think your lover's 'not that bad'?" Abby resentfully asked.

Bulma bit her lip, feeling abruptly guilty. "So he's not exactly Oprah Winfrey-"

"He's dangerous, Bulma." she said, reaching out to squeeze Bulma's hand. "Are you sure you've made the right choice?"

"He would never hurt me, if that is what you're implying."

"He could have killed Marlin. He wanted to, I saw it in his eyes. He's not a good person."

"Well, he didn't kill him… he doesn't kill a lot of people I know he wishes to. Partly because of Goku, I think but mostly because he's intelligent enough to realize what a good thing he has going here. To jeopardize that because of some insignificant annoyance would be monumentally dumb. You have to understand Abby, NOT killing is a novel concept to him. Vegeta has… a complicated past. Sentiments like good and evil did not exist, just survival. I think this planet is a second chance for him. He can become the person he was meant to be. Granted, he'll probably never be rid of the person he was made into, such things tend to leave permanent marks, and Vegeta's scars run deep. But I can live with that, I will take him as is because when I'm with him… I feel like I'm complete. He makes up the parts of me that I'm lacking, that I never knew I was missing. After experiencing that; I don't think I will be able to go back to just being part of a whole."

"You really do love him then?"

"Yes. With all my heart."

"You sure it's not just the sex? I mean, I know he's your first and all but as the humans say: there are plenty of fish in the sea… granted he looks like he can rock it in the sack. All that intensity-"

"Oh you have no idea" she agreed suggestively.

"I'm right here!" Marlin suddenly interrupted, disgust apparent in his raspy voice. Bulma laughed.

"Is he that well defined all over?" Abby asked, ignoring their red-faced companion.

"Abby!" Bulma yelled, scandalized, feeling her face heat.

"Oh come now, you were just talking about how he ripped up your lingerie. You can't turn shy now. Was it that negligee you bought yesterday?" she continued prying."You can tell me, you know."

"Ladies, seriously? I'm trying to eat here." Marlin complained and the two mermaids giggled at his discomfort.

Over the next few weeks, they developed a sort of routine. Bulma would always wake to find Vegeta downstairs at the kitchen table, having breakfast no matter how late she chose to drag her elephant-sized butt out of bed. It was becoming more and more difficult to even do that. She felt like a blimp some mornings, where the only way for her to sit herself up was to levitate herself upright. Her friends, either one or the other, sometimes both would be sitting on the balcony enjoying their own breakfasts. Bulma would approach Vegeta's table, either dressed for the day, or wearing 'decent' night clothes, (else she'd be sent back upstairs to 'put some gods-damned clothes on') and join Vegeta for breakfast. He would then surreptitiously watch her, monitoring her dietary intake until he seemed satisfied, then he left to train. If he felt she wasn't consuming enough protein or dairy or whatever else he deemed necessary, he would push forward a plate laden with items containing the nutrition he felt she was lacking and made sure she finished it before he left. As soon as he left, her friends would join her at the table and they'd have a pleasant breakfast together, discussing their progress in their respective tasks or brainstorming new innovations that could benefit their underwater city. It was all hypothetical, based on the scenario that she succeeded in bringing peace to the two realms and that she managed to take the throne. After breakfast they would all head to their respective work. Marlin was now the new lab rat for any mer related investigations and experiments. Abby was volunteering at the local clinic in the maternity ward to learn about delivering and caring for infant humans. No one knew what to expect after the birth, but as far as anyone could tell - using the state of the art equipment specifically designed for her - this baby looked like a human and they expected him to be born like one. Bulma had taken point on all ocean related inventions, discovering her knack for turning ideas into realities using science. She could, quite frankly, do this for the rest of her life. Dr. Briefs seemed pleased as a peach with her results, already building his underwater Capsule Corp Empire. Lately he had begun treating her as more of an equal than a mentee, openly discussing things like revenue and attempting to negotiate for their resources. Especially since he discovered that her trident was made from a special alloy only found at a specific location in their underwater magma ores. He was practically salivating as he ruminated on the potential of an alloy that can channel the flow of ki. Of course, she had to keep reminding him that she wasn't queen yet and that they first had to destroy the androids and oust the Council from power before any official talks and negotiations could begin. Which was exactly what she was currently reiterating as they debated the merits of utilizing the alloy in various ways.

"Nonsense, my dear." he replied one day "Haven't you ever played Monopoly? Whoever lands on it first gets dibs and I landed on a gold mine when you splashed into our lives. I'm investing in you because you have the potential to change this world for the better. "

"I'll try my best, Doctor" Bulma agreed, feeling her heart clench and her eyes growing misty. She did not know what she did for him to have such a high regard for her, but she could feel deep gratitude for the sentiments.

"And I have no doubt that you will succeed. It's not every day that I encounter someone with enough heart and enough brains to launch man -and merkind into a new era of development."

"I'm flattered you feel that way, Sir"

"Don't be flattered my dear, be smart. You see, I am an old man. When I eventually die I would ultimately have liked to share my legacy with someone who would see this vision I have through. Ideally it would have been my progeny, but that was not in the cards for us it seems. Panchy is barren as you already know."

"What are you proposing?" Bulma asked, a nervous fluttering in her belly.

"It's quite simple Bulma. I need an heir and you need power and influence enough so that you can solidify your claim on your throne at home. You have a legitimate claim, yes, but to truly achieve peace between your realm and mine you have to be able to protect your people from humans, and vice versa. You need connections, allies in high places. You're already half-way there. Befriending and associating with the strongest humans on this planet, the Z warriors, was a good political move on your part, even if it was unintended, but you need money. Those who control the money control the world. You need to become someone that not even the powerhouses of this world would dare cross. Only then will you have the leverage you need to oust the Council."

Here he sighed, eyes suddenly turning heavy with an unseen weight.

"There are very few people that I trust in this world. There are those that would look at my technology and see only monetary gain, putting things designed for good in the wrong hands and watch it become twisted and used for evil. Not caring as long as the coffers are full… and those that would pursue science with unchecked fervor, and in their brilliance would be blinded by the unintended and downright destructive consequences that an invention can wreck on this world. It's a very precarious balance and from our months spent together, it is a balance that I can see myself trusting you to uphold."

Bulma remained silent as she considered Dr Brief's proposal. She couldn't help but think back on Vegeta's words the night they made that promise. 'A solid base of power' he had said. When she thought about it, really contemplating the circumstances she found herself in, she couldn't help but feel that it had all been orchestrated once more. Those invisible strings pulling at them like marionettes. It was her destiny: meeting the Briefs, the fact that his mind was just unique enough to be able to hear her telepathic calls on their first meeting, and his subsequent research into the phenomenon. All leading up to this very moment; an offer, yet so much more. She would accept, of course, if that was what the gods desired, but resentment boiled not far from the surface as she was once again reminded of how little control she had over her own life, over her own fate. How her achievements would never be completely her own, but the credit of some meddling deity's. Would she ever be free of them? She sighed and looked at Dr. Briefs, he was watching her expectantly. Like her, he too was a puppet. His tragedies and triumphs were precisely orchestrated to bring him to this exact moment.

She reached out and took his hand. "You're an extraordinary man, Trunks Briefs. You see the potential in people and things and you nurture and feed it until it yields the most amazing results… Thank you, for believing in me and helping me find my calling. I would be honored to inherit your company, and all that comes with it and I promise to continue the legacy of Capsule Corp as you intended it."

"Oh" he blinked, apparently taken aback. "It was.. Well, you're very welcome then, young lady." he said, clearing his throat self-consciously. Bulma smiled and patted his hand before she got up and left him to his inventions, waddling over to her own workstation. It was just as she was about to sit down that she felt a sharp pain bloom in her lower back, weakening her legs with its intensity and she had to catch herself on the table in front of her to prevent herself falling. She must have cried out, for Dr. Briefs was suddenly at her side.

"Bulma! My dear, are you alright?"

"Ow! No. That one hurt like a bitch!" she replied.

"When did your pains start?" he asked, his tone switching from concern to professional in an instant.

"This morning. At breakfast. It was just slightly discomforting, like menstrual cramps."

"That is normal, I'd say. Well, let's get you to the med ward then." he said and took her arm to support her and they made their way through the labs to the medical bay within the compound especially set up to facilitate the birth of her child. In the nearby corner of the room stood a seawater tank big enough to fit the baby, monitoring equipment already connected for vital checks. "Just in case" Dr. Brief's had said.

* * *

It was well past sunset by the time Bulma's labour began in earnest. The delivery room was occupied by Dr. Briefs, Abby and Vegeta, who was trying his level best to wear a tread into the tiled floor with all the pacing he was doing. Bulma's pain was a constant thrum at his temple, an unconscious effort on her part to link with him through her ordeal. He had been allowing it, mostly for curiosity's sake, to try and understand what she was going through. He figured that it cannot be worse than the lashings he used to get for insubordination while he was still a hell-raising adolescent under Frieza's rule. He had to revise that impression when the last two contractions nearly brought him to his knees, the feeling akin to his tail amputation by that fat freak that sometimes went around with the warriors of this planet… but much slower, he thought and shuddered, recalling the length of the last contraction she experienced. He'd been blocking her psychic attempts to connect with him ever since. It wouldn't do for him to be a writhing mass of uselessness on the floor while Bulma was in such a vulnerable state.

"Is it always this painful?" Bulma whined after the last one subsided. She was talking to her comrade come midwife, Abby who was at her side, holding her hand.

"From what I've observed, yes." Abby replied, mopping some of the sweat drops on Bulma's brow with a cloth.

"I need more ice," the laboring woman suddenly demanded, and a foamalite cup was handed to her by Dr. Briefs, half full with the ice chips the woman had been chomping on between the torture sessions.

On the next contraction, the green-haired mermaid was screaming just as loud as his woman was, her hand clamped in the vice that was Bulma's grip. Vegeta cringed at the pain the superimposed screeching was causing his sensitive ears.

"This is your job, you know!" Abby scolded after Bulma settled down, shaking her injured hand.

Vegeta snorted, "Tch, as if"

"Oh for the love of-" Abby growled before pressing her clenched palms to her forehead. "Oh mighty Neptune," she suddenly exclaimed, head bowed solemnly, "why couldn't you have chosen a nice normal merboy to father Bulma's children? Instead you got her that terror!" she lamented, pointing at Vegeta. "What sin had she committed to deserve this? Why do you punish her so? Amen." she finished, eyes closed in piously. Vegeta's jaw ticked, a growl rippling through his barred teeth as the hands at his side opened and closed restlessly, imagining them wrapping around the insolent mermaid's scrawny neck.

"Can't you two quit bickering for more than two min-Aaah! Holy shit on a sandwich, that fucking hurts!" Bulma exclaimed, whole body tensing while she muttered expletives through gritted teeth.

"This one is quite strong." Brief notes, eyes on a tablet that displayed the woman and child's vitals. "How's it look down there Abalone?"

"Eight centimetres, Doctor" Abby answered from between his woman's legs. "We're almost ready to go."

"Hand. Fucking Hand!" Bulma demanded, reaching her arm out towards him. Vegeta silently complied, letting her squeeze his hand as she endured the contraction. He had to unleash a significant amount of his power to keep her from crushing it like she did her friend's. More than he would have thought possible, for although Bulma is strong, she has yet to surpass even scar-face in brute strength. Vegeta marveled at how, with this new-found strength of hers could probably wipe the floor with Baldy. He looked curiously at the green-haired mermaid, who was still crouched between Bulma's legs.

"You were holding back with her." he accused when her pain passed.

"Of course I did." Bulma replied, panting. "Abby needs her hands to catch this damned baby, whom I swear I will fucking yank out myself if he doesn't get his butt out of there in the next ten minutes. Dr. Briefs! Where are those force-EeeAa! Hot Balls!" she screamed… and screamed some more, once again attempting to crush his hand into a pulpy sack of bones.

"We're at ten, Doc. We can push now. Bulma, are you ready?" Abby yelled over the woman's screaming.

"I was ready five hours ago!" Bulma shouted back when the contraction finally ended.

"You're lucky it's only been five hours. I've seen some mothers having to endure 10 hours of stage 2 labor."

"Abby?"

"Yes Bulma?"

"Shut the fuck up and get this kid the hell up out of me!"

"Okay then. On the next contraction, you're going to need to start pushing."

An hour fourteen minutes later, Vegeta's son was born.

A few heartbeats later, Bulma started screaming and Vegeta felt a heavy sense of dread settling in his chest.

Something was wrong.

Vegeta looked over to where the newborn was being attended to on the surgical table.

"Doctor Briefs!", Bulma screamed, "He can't breath! Why can't he breathe?" She started struggling frantically to get her legs out of the stirrups.

"Bulma, wait! The afterbirth hasn't come yet." Abby was trying to calm her down but her words fell on deaf ears. The infant was convulsing, while the doctor attempted to attach all sorts of wires to him. And Vegeta felt the worst sense of helplessness as he stood frozen on the spot, unsure of what he should do.

"My baby," Bulma screamed, inconsolable and continued her plight to free herself, Abby attempted to restrain her but Bulma shoved the other mermaid so violently that she flew across the room, into the wall on the opposite side of the room.

"Vegeta!" Abby suddenly called out to him, from her prone position on the floor, "Don't let her get up!"

Vegeta felt something click into place as his focus reasserted itself. He was at Bulma's side in an instant, pressing her back down. "Breath, Woman." He ordered.

"But, I can feel his panic. Vegeta, he's dying!"

"Briefs," Vegeta called out. "Why isn't the boy in the tank?"

"He has gills, but they seem to be sealing up, Vegeta. In a few more seconds he should be able to breathe normally. I've seen Bulma make this transition many times. He will be fine." the doctor answered calmly. His voice was reassuring, and Vegeta breathed a sigh of relief, his erratically racing heart calming a bit at the confidence in the old man's tone. Bulma had finally stopped struggling, slumping back onto the bed in defeat. "He's so confused" she whispered and he felt her shudder. "He doesn't know what's happening." Vegeta watched, stricken as the tears ran down her face into her hair. The only comfort he could offer her was his arms. Abby was there again, tending to her during the final process of her labour.

A high pitched hiccup sounded behind him. Vegeta turned and saw the doctor holding the infant facing the table. Fluid was dripping from the newborn's mouth. Then the child took a breath, the echo of it deafening in the now silent delivery room, and started crying. The sound took his breath away, and he felt almost lightheaded with relief. He looked at Bulma, and saw the same relief reflected in her watery blue eyes. He felt a psychic prod and opened his mind to her. Her emotions hit him all at once: joy, relief, exhaustion and happiness. So much happiness he felt his chest would burst. He lowered his brow to hers, breathing in the scent of her breath, letting it soothe his body as her emotions were soothing his soul.

'He's okay.' she said, her voice a whisper in his mind. A tentative smile was forming on her face. She was sweat-slicked, tear-stained and her hair was all over the place, but to Vegeta, at that moment she was the most radiant creature he'd ever seen.

His eyes shifted toward where the doctor was busy swaddling the newborn, then he handed the child off to Abby, who then proceeded to approach them.

"Congratulations, your Highnesses" she said, the infant wriggling in her arms, "you have a son. The heir has arrived, as foretold." She announced, grandly, then placed him in Bulma's arms.

Vegeta watched, spellbound as Bulma unwrapped him partly to display a scrunched up red face. The child blinked, displaying grey-blue eyes. The fuzz on his head seemed soft and fluffy - an unusual light shade that Vegeta couldn't yet identify, as it was still slicked down with gunk. A little fist escaped the blankets, waving about as the child started fussing, nuzzling the breast that Bulma had already bared in preparation for the moment. Instinct took over as the infant latched and he saw Bulma winced at the sensation.

"I can feel his... comfort. Is that normal?" she asked Abby.

"Our babies have very little psychic ability at birth save for an instinctive bond with their mother. It's perfectly normal for you to feel what he feels, Bulma. Just as he feels what you feel… your earlier panic. That was most likely channeled from him as a natural defense tactic to alert you to his distress. It probably caught you off guard and that's why you were so irrational. I've seen it in first-time mothers before, so I'll tell you what I told them: The next time this happens, Try remaining calm and sending him your own reassuring and comforting thoughts. It will settle him down faster."

Bulma nodded solemnly and went back to watching the boy. Vegeta found that he too, struggled to tear his gaze from what was transpiring before him. He was so wrapped up that he completely missed it when something else snaked out from beneath the blankets and wrapped around Bulma's wrist. Vegeta's breath hitched in his throat. It was a tail. The fine brown fur was matted down at certain spots, but undoubtedly, his son was flourishing the symbol of his heritage: a saiyan tail.

"How?" he heard Bulma whisper in wonder, eyes also on the new appendage.

"It looks like your son grows his tail when he's out of the water" Dr Briefs remarked in reply, a little sardonically.

"Amazing." he heard himself whisper.

"Indeed" the doctor replied.

"Well then he seems healthy enough, Bulma dear, but I'll need to run a few more tests to be sure." Dr Briefs said. "How are you feeling?"

"Apart from a few aches and pains, I'm doing pretty good."

"Excellent." Briefs replied, making more notes on his tablet.

"So, Princess. What are you going to name him?" Abby asked. Bulma's eyes met his own, radiating warmth as she replied:

"Vegeta. Vegeta Trunks Arowana." She looked to him for confirmation.

Vegeta felt his chest expand, filling with a sense of pride. By allowing this naming he was recognizing the boy as his heir. It would be merely symbolic, as the Saiyan-race are long dead, their customs with them, but he still appreciated the gesture. He nodded stiffly, watching the uncertainty leave her eyes at his acknowledgement.

"We can call him Veggie."

"Absolutely not" Vegeta vehemently and immediately denied.

"Trunks then," she amended, and he sighed, but nodded grudgingly at her searching look. "If that is alright with you Dr. Briefs?" she further asked, looking at the frumpy doctor who was suddenly misty eyed.

"My dear, you honor me" he simply replied.

"It is settled then…little Vegeta Trunks Arowana" she announced, "Welcome to the world, my son."

And he, Vegeta, Prince of All Saiyans, vowed then and there that this world would survive. That, when the time was right, his son would have a kingdom to claim. He would make sure of it, for Vegeta finally understood what it took to become the Legendary, and he was looking directly at at: his weakness, the chink in his armor. His key.

Vegeta's eyes were drawn to the only window in the room, the stars twinkled at him in the cloudless, inky black sky. Beckoning. It was time to start his training again. This time, he was ready.

…

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it then... yala!
> 
> I've really enjoyed writing this story (when moments of inspiration struck - which I must admit was few and far in between, hence the seven years it took to actually get to this point) and I really hope you enjoyed reading it.
> 
> Thanks for all the kudos and comments, it really motivated me even though I'm new on this platform. So until next time.
> 
> Ja ne!

**Author's Note:**

> If you're following on FF, you'll notice that the chapters posted here are a slightly different. I'm revamping the story a bit, seeing as it is years old. My writing style has changed over the years so I'm trying to make it more consistent this time around.


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